RIP marble 2002-2005

so my sisters gerbal died on the weekend. to be fair, i actually thought it died 2 years ago, but i guess she had two. so anyways, marble died this weekend. my sister found him dead in his cage when she went to feed him. this was a traumatizing event for my family. which strikes me as odd, considering that no one ever took it out of the cage, it smelled like urine all the time, pretty sure my sister only cleaned its cage on long weekends that fell in months starting with j. however, marble is a member of the family so we must give him the proper send off. my dad, as the grounds keeper, was in charge of digging a hole large enough to fit a listerine pocket pack box. my job, as resident family dj and maestro, was to select a song appropriate to send off a dear family friend. well, no one actually asked me to pick a song, but i settled on amazing grace by nana mouskouri. we all gathered round the apple tree in the backyard to give our last regards to marble. a little sampling of our eulogy as follows: my sister- blah blah blah i'll miss you you were a good pet even though i never touched you because whenever i did you'd shit everywhere (actually she never said that, but as she was talking thats what i was thinking) my mom- bye marble (or something to that effect) me- sorry i called you useless, i guess you were kind of cute. my dad- SORRY I KICKED YOU ACROSS THE FLOOR. yes, he actually did do this. so we all sprinkled a little dirt and each placed a flower on top of the listerine pocket pack box, just as nana sings the final bars of amazing grace. it was all a very touching, fitting way to send off a beloved pet. except that its a gerbal. and my sister is 28. and everyone in my family sobbed hysterically. including my dad. who does not get emotional. ever. while i tried to crack lame jokes about the last two months being the best of his life, while wondering why my family is crazy and how come i was the only one who wasnt crying and didnt anyone else see the humour in this.

this modern love

just got back from the bar. isnt there anything else to do except spend money i dont have to drown my sorrows in double vodka redbulls. what am i doing with this? slowly cutting people off, out. that i should have cut off a long time ago. i always try to make it something that its not. although i did have the best pizza ive ever had in my life i think tonight. and watched t2 while doing it. trust me.

has anyone else mispelled word verifcation like i just did?

i just went to scratch my head and it felt like i had a bruise or a bump there and i was like what the hell? then i realized it was from when i got headbutted at the bar on friday night.

is it limbo?

so i googled myself and apparently i am a urologist. and somehow i still cant afford to move out on my own. tried to talk my sister into letting me live with her when she buys a house next year. she laughed at me. its a work in progress. i feel she'll come around.
in three weeks, i turn 25. having a major quarter life crisis about that, which actually started when i was 22. not exactly what i thought i'd be doing at this age. faced with the prospect of not having a job in a month, i'm not really sure how i am going to do all the things i wanted to do in the next year. this is supposed to be the year that i get my shit together. but for some reason, it takes me longer to do stuff than anyone else i know. not sure if i make it harder for myself, but i fight just about everything. and here i am, almost 25, no closer to my goals, whatever they are, then i was 5 years ago. i have a tendency to draw lines in the sand, so to speak, talk myself out of things by saying that i wll never be able to do it anyway. i dont know how. i am waiting for a really good idea to drop into my lap, that i will patent, and then live off that for the rest of my life. i am getting past prime trophy wife age, and as i have a strong aversion to marraige, i think that as an option is also out. its not that i want to be alone forever. thats just the way i see the future when i picture it in my head. i dont see marraige. i hate kids, or at this point , dont have the patience for them. i dont want a boyfriend, at least i dont think i do. but i know that i am tired of being tag along third wheel all your friends have boyfriends or girlfriends who they swear they dont spend every waking moment with but they do and they know it and they call you once in awhile to hang out and if they happen not to catch you, well at least they did their duty because they called you so you cant accuse them of not calling cause you didnt pick up. girl. truth is, i'm really not sure that i care anymore. what dont i care about? not sure about that either. despite all this, i have it pretty good, and i know it. which makes me feel like a jackass for not knowing it. i am stuck. here. in myself. i can see a light. but i dont know how to get there. so now what?

i cant even think of something to call this one.

i have absolutely nothing to write about. i mean absolutely nothing at all. it bloggals (you like that) my mind that people have stuff to write about, all the time. i think i might start a fake blog with a fake product , like offering to write witty blogs for people who have writers block and go around and spam people. this is because i am that bored. if you look at the time, you will notice its 1 o'clock on friday night and i am writing a blog about writing blogs. so this is what its gonna be huh. bloody hell.

i want your sex

it seems, that over the past few days, i have developed some kind of (unhealthy?) obsession with george michael. it all started innocently enough, i heard monkey on the radio, and thought hey, i have that cd. which leads to friday night, which, instead of going out like a normal person, i spent it downloading four or five different versions of too funky. all great. then i ripped the faith cd onto my ipod. listened to hard day (regular version, and the shep pettibone remix) for the rest of the evening. saturday rolls around, and i pick aimee up for whistler while listening to too funky. we also use this as our theme song for the rest of the evening, saying repeatedly to each other, 'would you like me to seduce you? is that what youre trying to tell me?' with that sexy smile and a little shimmy. sunday, i change my msn name to 'would you like me to seduce you? is that what youre trying to tell me?' accompanied by a saucy photo of me, trying to seduce you. however, i'm pretty sure it became a full blown addiction when not an hour and a half ago i was driving to physio listening to 'hand to mouth' on the ipod, for the 68th time in 3 days. when it ended and i started it over and said out loud, to myself, 'way too fuckin good'.

hootie and shipkicker takin whistler by storm

alright alright. so, back from our little excursion up the mountain, where we had some good times, learned a little about life, went to bed at a respectable hour. and talked to a guy from australia while doing a fake australian accent just to see if he noticed. heaps of fun. things that happened in whistler as follows. we arrive and its totally pouring rain, but no worries because we came prepared with some kick ass funbrellas, as we like to call them. and i made sure to bring only flip flops and sandals so my feet would get nice and wet. and cold. we ate a romantic dinner of burritos (aimee) and quiznos (me) while we pondered the thought of never going home. ever. went back to l'hotel for a nice hot tub (did you know they let you drink in the hot tub? super easy, just put your beer (aimee) or vodka (me) in an inconspicuos plastic cup and you are on your way). from here, we proceded to get ready to go out while watching selena for the fourth time because aimee really likes that movie and i'm pretty sure there was some singing along to george michaels too funky. we walk thru the village with our funbrellas and happen upon the bar which we will make ours for the night and quickly make friends with the nice boys in the vip line. who we ditch once we get inside because one of them mistakes pootie for a stripper pole. in no time, we are feeling no pain until some girl who is way too drunk steps on my sandaled foot with her last seasons stilletos and i am pretty sure i have some broken bones. i am not kidding. my foot is now blue. not purple, blue. in order to ease my pain, i talk some nice boy into buying me a double vodka redbull for $14 which i take two sips from when some other way too drunk girl knocks it out of my hand. booo. i have long since set my sights on a boy who i will make my makeout mission for the night while pootie is fielding marriage proposals from some of the other patrons. last check, she turned them down. at least i think she did. some time goes by and i will have to get pootie to fill in the blurry spots and the ugly lights come on, but it is not time to go yet. in fact, the show has just begun. i leave with my makeout no longer just a prospect, and hootie with her future husband for a little stroll to hang out outside the 7eleven. and this is where we meet the australian, who i remembered to give a fake name, but not a fake phone number. but i did it with an accent, so not a total loss. from here, some girl (?) trys to get us to come to a hot tub party with her and her friends. no, we did not go. bye makeout boy. at some point, we uncover that future husband knows some of the same people we do at home, which of course requires a background check at 3:30 in the morning. to banff. many thanks to andrew for staying on the phone with me for what felt 15 minutes but was probably more like an hour. you are super good stuff. now back at the hotel, i reclaim possesion of my own cell phone and for those of you who received text messages, you are welcome for the free entertainment. 4:30 in the morning. from here, we pass out with the tv blaring selena, the heat on full blast, and every light in the room on. and nobody puked. if thats not a successful trip, man, then i dont know success.

if you want to...

i remember thinking its bullshit to wait for a guy to fall in love with you and sweep you off your feet because he's only going to break your heart. i still hope i'm wrong about that one. my big book of rememberances. i remember going to the park by my house and bringing my cabbage patch doll and paint fell off the picnic table and landed on her but it was okay because she wasnt my favorite. i remember moving to bc after my parents said it would never happen and crying my eyes out and missing the last few years of my grandmas life and why didnt i talk to her more and why didnt i write her more she wouldve loved to hear from me. she was so proud when i graduated high school. i remember she loved us with everything she had. grandma youre cool. i remember getting a new bike with my dad and the one i was supposed to get was red and plain and ugly with a white banana seat and the one i got was cool and red like bmx style and had padding on the handle bars like all the boys bikes and i loved it. i remember getting a math award in grade 2 i got a book i think it was thumbelina and then failing math every year after gr 8. i remember stepping on a bee after doing a cartwheel and it stung me that was my first bee sting and it hurt. i remember when my dad bought a cd player and the first cds i had were bon jovi slippery when wet and bruce springsteen born in the usa. i remember watching earnest goes to camp at uncle eddies and eating pizza while everyone else ate chinese because i hated chinese. i remember getting a cell phone and thinking it was a great idea and now being chained to it because nobody ever calls and text messaging has given me nothing but grief. Grief. i remember the swiss kid and how it ended and how i hate endings but its all about the ending. how endings haunt me and why cant they ever be good and my cell phone has no messages. but i still keep checking it. i hate endings they are my least favorite. i remember riding my bike and playing with friends and having sleepovers and looking forward to being a teenager and thinking 20 was old and that i'd be married at 22 and things were so uncomplicated and so very complicated at the same time. i remember fighting with heidi and sarah and making up and playing favorites and threes a crowd even when your 10. i remember wanting to be loved. right now.back then. in the future. i remember a buddist quote if we look too backward or too forward we will only get lost. i remember tending to live in the past and relive every single moment especially the ones that hurt the most over and over until its hard to breathe and i have to remind myself to inhale. i opened my blinds today. its a start.