In All Honesty, How Sorry I'll Always Be

B and I met a few years ago, at parties and such, and though we became friends relatively quickly, I always thought that our friendship grew out of a pot of somewhat awkward soil. It was spring 2006 and though I had broken up with my boyfriend, I was still hanging around his fraternity brothers - one of them being B. At the time, and especially in retrospect, I truly wanted nothing more than a really, really good friendship with him. But, sometime during those long conversations, parties we went to together, and those destination-less drives at night, things got a little more complicated than I expected, or even noticed. I can safely say now that I didn't notice because I didn't pay enough attention and I didn't pay enough attention because I didn't really care and that was because I was an insensitive biatch. At the time.

And so we hung out, and then we made out, and one thing led to another and before I knew it he started calling me his "girlfriend". (PS: I think this trend in forming those friendship-to-couplehood relationships via Sudden (Druken) Making Out is really not a good idea.) The first time I heard him say it out loud in my general presence I think I stopped breathing for a second. But, being the coward that I was, I didn't express to him my discomfort with that idea and the word and instead, continued with the pseudo-relationship until I just couldn't take the feeling of being committed to someone anymore and then I just got on a plane and flew over to the other side of the world. Our time apart provided me with just about two months with which to think things over and realize what I had gotten myself into - something that I didn't want. So, our communication broke down over that time (mostly because I didn't write to him (because I was afraid of confrontation; again, see: the fact that I was an insensitive biatch)), and when I got back into the country, I decided not to tell him the truth in what I figured out, but to spin some sort of half-assed excuse about needing my independence and space, and wanting to see other people. How I managed to construe needing more time and space to myself and leaving room to see more people into any rational sense bewilders me.

But, of course, it didn't end there - what dysfunctional relationship does? We continued seeing each other... and though it was destructive, something can be said for the fact that sometimes, you really just can't let a person go that easily. You have to do something to hang onto them, even if it does mean compromising your desire for a full relationship (in his case) and well, as for me, I got what I wanted: an easy-going thing with a great guy, no strings attached. And then there's more - I go and start hanging out with my ex-boyfriend again. And so we hung out, and then we made out, and one thing led to another and before I knew it we were seeing each other again. And there was B, spending time with me completely ignorant of what had happened that day with another boy (who was, incidentally, his Brother), patiently listening when I finally told him about the ex-boyfriend, calling me again and again to talk through things and to finally tell me that he understood and that he was okay with everything the way it was, the way I wanted it. It was all about me, and he graciously gave into that.

A few weeks later we went for a walk. He told me that he had been really unhappy for a long time, and that when he thought about why, it was all because of me. He told me that he was going to take himself out of the picture, that I could do whatever I wanted (because that's what I was doing anyway). He called me out on all the awful things I had done, on how badly I treated him throughout the whole time, how dishonest I was - and he was right. I was silent the entire time; it was the dishonesty piece that really got to me in the end - I had no reasons or explanations because dishonesty pretty much speaks for itself. And it says so much more about a person's character than anyone would ever care to admit. When he was done speaking, he really was done with me. I walked home alone and cried the whole way. I hadn't realized how much I was hurting him and I didn't ever really mean to. And here was the kicker: I didn't think that I had done anything wrong. Selfishness is blinding. I finally saw that I had been on the verge of losing someone really great the entire time.

He hasn't spoken to me since that night. I tried staying in contact with him, but there were never responses to my messages or emails. In the beginning, I was really disappointed, and then I was angry (because really, how rude!), but then I was completely and utterly thankful. He ultimately taught me that you can't just go around treating people like that, like the way I did: dishonestly and selfishly, doing whatever you want to do without regard for others' feelings. Suffice to say, I definitely learned my lesson. The last email I sent was about a year and a half ago, in February of 07, and it was triggered because I was listening to a few songs from a band that he really liked. I attach meaning very easily to inanimate objects, but I do so particularly strongly with music. He never replied. And I bet I'll still continue to think about him every time I hear that band.

Sometimes you put up a fight when someone walks away because they've earned that spot in your heart and you want them to stay there and you want them to know just how much they mean to you and you really do just need their presence in your life because that bond...it makes little sense but it really is that strong. And sometimes, when the other person is being insistent, I guess you'll just have to let them walk. Or, maybe neither of those things happens because life and all its dysfunctional relationships aren't ever so cut and dry.

Either way, to B: Perhaps you'll never read these words for yourself and you'll probably never hear them either because you've done a very good job of kicking me clear out of sight of your life (and I admire you for that - you always had such strong willpower), but I truly am sorry. Though I never intended to hurt you, I was wrong to treat you like I did and it took some time, but you taught me that, even though you weren't around to see the change or reap the benefits. Ultimately, I'm thankful. I learned several very important lessons from you (too bad you had to be a guinea pig on that one) that I'll never forget. There was a time when I wanted to chase after you, when I would have given anything to be your friend again, but - and it's a bit odd to say this with little sadness - I guess it's better that we're not.
11:15 pm

Friday, August 29, 2008

Oka, It Makes Me Happy

Give them a listen. They take me out of any mood and put me into a traaaance. Didgeridoo goodness.

Currently: Locked out of my house. Waiting to talk to people who have the power (aka keys) to let me back in.

I have realized, for about the fourth time now, that in order to be an actor/actress/acting person of any kind, one must not do anything other than keep all their time free so that when they are offered a role, they can just take it without scheduling complications.

I went to a film audition last weekend and though I walked out of there thinking that I completely blew it, I got an email from them the next day asking me to film that very week. Problem: I work. Everyday, particularly during the hours they wanted to film. So, despite the fact that I wrote back and pleaded them to try to include me, they didn't get back to me and that was that. This is the second time I haven't been able to do a film project due to work, and the fifth time in total that I haven't been able to take a role (two films, two plays) because of scheduling conflicts. Clearly, I should just sit around in between auditions and wait because going out there to earn money isn't getting me anywhere in terms of my stage presence. No wonder we're starving artists...

I am however, heading home this weekend to help out some friends with a short film they're putting together.

No. Not that kind of film.

Other than that, the plan is to hit up The Ex (dear weather, please be nice) and then I'll most likely spend the rest of my time studying - because that's all I ever do with my free time. That, and stay late at the office to use the internets because I don't live with any (see: right now).

Although, I did take a giant break from studying last night and instead, went out for a fabulous dinner with my best friend, headed to the pub, had some beer, and then I picked up some free kitchenware on the way home. Now, tell me, if you were lacking a strainer/colander (what's the difference anyhow?) - and we all know how annoying it is to strain pasta without one - and then you saw one in perfectly good condition, for free, wouldn't you take it? Well, I did just that. The strainer just happened to be sitting on top of a pile of things that was in a recycling bin (NOT the "garbage") on the curb. I also got two perfectly nice Christmas platters. I held my ground despite the weird looks and laughs I received from my friends. I'll scrub them clean and totally use them. People in this world totally don't believe in reusing enough.

Two more weeks in this town and then I hit the road for two months. Back to living out of a suitcase, but this time with fancy suits! Must learn to iron....

6:03 pm

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Plugged In

Had a nice morning (note to future self: running after 10am during the summer is so not a good idea), but wish I could have spent today outdoors because it's just so pretty out. Plus, I'm missing the street-fest. Instead, I've been trapped in this library all day attempting to study, but surfed the net to satisfy my e-cravings because living without the internet is both a blessing and an annoyance.

Work is harder than school. I spend all my evenings studying because we get quizzed every morning. There's a lot to know about a university before you can hit the road and recruit for it. I've been slacking, but one can only look like an idiot in front of their superiors for so long. The time has come to crack down. But, given my complete lack of work ethic, I've been catching up with my peeps and browsing music all afternoon.

Needing a break from all things university-related, and desperately wanting some social interaction, I hung out at the local Buskerfest last night with some new friends. Enjoyed myself some street performers, fancy acrobatics, live music, and fireworks. There is nothing like the sound of cheers and laughter with the accompanying smell of deep-fry on a cool summer's evening. Two pints of beer later and I was SO ready for bed. Being used to rising at 7:15am every morning really doesn't allow for bed times of 2am.

In musical news, I realized that I know the brother of the drummer for Caribou (when they were on tour, at least) - more music of the indie-electronica variety. We re-met last night at the bar and we must have looked at each other for a few solid minutes before we realized that we had hung out a number of times a couple of years ago (via the ex-boyfriend). He's still awesome and I'm still awesome, so I'm hoping for VIP backstage pass privileges one day...? In addition to aforementioned indie-electronica, and a good bagpipe tune, I am a giant sucker for:

- hypnotic percussive chillout dancegrooves (see: Apadurai, Oka)
- didgeridoos in general (seen two didj concerts in the last month and OMG *MELT*. Going to another one tomorrow night!)

Heard and met Oka just last night and I dropped $50 on CDs without thinking twice just because I HAD TO OWN THEM. Kind of like the time I heard Autorickshaw or Apadurai. I got autographs! It's the roadie wannabe in me coming out.

Time to peel myself off this chair, unplug the lappy, and go do something slightly more productive than ...this.

4:42 pm

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Sigh Of Contentment

So, after whining that I was lonely last night, I went out to meet a few friends at the local Irish pub and after twenty minutes, I couldn't take it anymore and went home. I couldn't believe that I was *that* tired. It was all for the better in the end because I slept like a log and after a 10:30am sleep in/wake up, I was fresh as a spring chicken and ready to take on my new-old life.

Moving back into an apartment that you've lived in before, but with new people, is an interesting situation. I'm living (for the next month) at the place I did the last two school terms, since September. But, after having moved out in April, my landlord got new tenants and now I'm back in my old room, with a different girl in the other one down the hall. Things are mostly the same (the smell, the dust, the crappy showerhead, the layout of my room, my furniture - except for the desk), but it's a different feeling. Also, being the creature of habit that I am, I took a breath when I realized that I had to use a different shelf in the bathroom and in the kitchen pantry, and especially when I saw that she had put the toaster behind the dish rack over there when it would work so much better where we used to have it, over here. I'm also putting my toothbrush in the cabinet behind the mirror when I always used to keep it in a cup by the tap, but I didn't want to disturb the peace that she had already created. I enjoyed some bits of nostalgia when I saw some random things we left behind, like dishes or the blue ornament that we hung from the closet doorknob. But it made me sad when I saw that she's now using our old pen jar as an ashtray. Also: no phone + no internet + no room in the fridge = much sadness. I also forgot to pack nail-clippers. Wah.

I experienced my first bout of Chicouti-sickness the other day. All of the sudden I was missing the familiar faces that I saw and the voices that I heard everyday for five weeks. I missed French! But. One reason that I'm glad to be back in town is that I no longer have to deal with the rains of Chicoutimi - finally, summer weather! I had forgotten how nice it was to have sunshine for more than a few hours at a time and not carry my umbrella with me everywhere I go. I'm enjoying life here again - it's nice to do my own laundry, to go grocery shopping for myself (but not so enjoyable when I have to lug everything back on my own), and hang out whenever without having to worry about having dinner with a host-family. All I need now is a bathtub with which to use my peppermint bath salts.

I'm currently sitting outside a cafe thiefing their wireless internet, having just ate a sandwich I made with the potato-onion and olive bread I bought this afternoon. I'll be going out for some beers tonight, possibly after I drink my new Riesling out of the martini glasses I bought for 10 cents each at a garage sale this morning. I can't stay out too late because I've got to be up for an audition at 10am tomorrow! Ahhh.*


* How do I make this sound like a relaxing sigh and not like a scream of fear?

6:54 pm

Friday, August 15, 2008

Transitions, Or Lack Thereof

It's hard to imagine that just seven days ago, I was in small city Quebec, and now I'm back to small city Ontario without having missed a beat. It blows my mind to think that a week ago, I received a certificate for completing the French immersion program, I danced the night away with friends, I spoke fluently in a language that I hadn't used in eight years. And now, I'm sitting alone in a little cafe with my laptop and a peppermint tea behind a man who I'm sure is browsing porn sites.

In seven days I've managed to move three times, start a new job, and attend a three-day training conference, which basically means I did the other things all in four days. My schedule has been hard enough on my body that I'm starting to wake up with sore throats and I'm getting a cold any day now.

I should be at home* resting**, but sometimes I just want to go out if only because I'm having a good hair day, I'm wearing a nice jacket, because the weather is nice. Tonight, it's all three of those things and right now I'm this close to just going back to an empty apartment that I just moved into and going to bed because I have no company with which to spend my time. Blach. I miss my life in Chicoutimi.

I was (still am?) really looking forward to a nice, relaxing weekend. I think I'd like some wine, Disney movies, and making out.


* A funny word considering that I call any place where I sleep "home". Chicoutimi was home. When I was crashing at my friend Nik's place earlier this week, I called her apartment home. I guess my old apartment is home now, too.

** As much as I can call sleeping uncomfortably on a crappy mattress with dirty sheets "resting". Gah, I hate moving.

10:29 pm

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

A Bientot

French sans the accents is ultimate suckage.

So, I partied hardied my last few days in Chicoutimi and after a 5am wake up, and a 14 hour bus journey, I was at home for about 15 hours before I was all packed up and ready to leave for another city. My schedule went something like this:

Friday: Last day of program, out until midnight-ish, bed at 2:30am
Saturday: Up at 5am, at the station to catch the 6:30am bus, arrived chez moi at 8:30pm, slept like a rock
Sunday: Packed up, left town for The Loo at 3pm-ish, crashed at a friend's place, slept like a stone
Monday: Up at 7am, started my new job at 8:30am!
Today: Cancelled my taco and beers date with the girls because I'm totally wiped out.

Tomorrow I leave for a 3-day training workshop, and then I arrive back to this city only to move again. Living out of a suitcase while holding down an office job is tricky because you have to iron everything again in the morning! Also: operating minor, but hot machinery when under the influence of lack of sleep is not cool.

Will try to write something of more substance when I regain consciousness.

Creme molle count upon leaving Chicoutimi: 8.

8:18 pm

Sunday, August 03, 2008

Five Days Notice

A fun story which neatly entwines with the Funny Anglo Moment as of late:

During my canoe class last week (YES, you read me, I have a canoe class - this is totally like camp) we were taught how to help out fellow canoers if they ever fell out of their vessel. The best way to learn, of course, is to demonstrate, so in the water me and my partner go, tipping the canoe over while we're at it and ta-da, we're saved... after a few minutes of fumbling around with the instructions, of course, which are always given to us very quickly which makes comprehension that much more difficult because, hello - we're working in a different language here.

The demonstration was fun, but upon attempting to dry off later I realized that though I had packed a change of clothes for the afternoon, I didn't pack an extra pair of underwear because I had never gotten THAT wet during a canoe class before. My solution was not to just suck it up and wear them around all day, nor was it to dry them under the hand-dryer in the bathroom. I just went sans-underpants all day (and night) - with a skirt. I admit that I was pretty proud of it because, in retrospect, I must have told at least seven people that I wasn't wearing underpants with a giant goofy grin on my face.

In telling friends the story of how I became underpants-less, I should have said that I had participated in «un demonstration de sauvetage» as opposed to saying «un demonstration de sauvage» because I basically said that I demonstrated "savageness" as opposed to a "rescue". Le sigh.

Spent my last weekend doing cool stuff like this:
- danced in the streets to the tunes of music from around the world (who knew Chicoutimi would have a massively huge international music festival FOR FREE?!)
- dressed up in the ghetto-ist 80s outfit ever, complete with clashing pink items, big jewellery, a headband, and a mole
- picked wild blueberries by a little lake up north (and I only got three mosquito bites! whoppee!)
- made dinner with my roommates à la Mexique for my family (they didn't like it :o()
- spent last night after dinner in the hot tub
- braved the winds and rain of Tadoussac today to go whale-watching

Hard to believe that I've only got five days left here... Here's to finally trying the blueberry beer (hope it's as good as the blueberry cider), performing with my danse expression class, rocking out at the bar and in general, and savouring one last crème molle.

Crème molle count: 6.

8:14 pm