2008 -> 2009

Christmas day.

This blur is all from one house!

The holidays always come and go so fast each year. 2008 was no different. The days leading up were a blur of specialty wraps and bows, which caused the days following to turn into a blur of lights and hugs and warm visits.

Today is the last day of 2008 and I must admit I am not sad to bid it farewell. Looking back, I can recognize a lot happened. Graduation and goodbyes and new beginnings of new cities and schools and friendships are big deals. But I felt as though I coasted too much throughout it all. Everything was always a blur. So I have my new year's resolutions, and if last night's sighting was a sign, I think 2009 will be eventful at the least.

thump

Do faces this beautiful still exist?

the kai guy

My three year old cousin, Kai, said to me today: "Why don't you have a smile?"

"I do have a smile. See!" I said, pointing to my face.

"But why don't you have a big smile?"

Kids are so perceptive.

you better run run run run to me

I rediscovered this song tonight while watching True Blood (which, might I add, is definitely worth checking out, albeit in a not-as-pretty-as-Robert-Pattinson-vampire-story sort of way). This song meant a lot to me a couple years back, and it is still as pretty as I remember it being. And whether it's intended to be or not, I still find it so hopeful and I hope you will, too.

catch a whiff of that

I'd say smell is the most powerful of all the senses. Sure, I can't imagine how my world would be without my sight or hearing, but smell has the ability to transport you back in time in a way the other senses cannot. Some may scoff and shake their heads and say I'm exaggerating (like usual), but then tell me how I find myself sitting at home alone on Christmas eve, feeling all sorts of pains after catching a whiff of returned belongings. Suddenly it's like the past five weeks (!!!!) never happened, and I'm transported back between familiar sheets while the familiar sound of the streetcar outside lulls me to sleep.

Eight days until a new year and a new start. They can't come soon enough.

in the middle of the night

HOROSCOPE TO THE SELF

Start focussing on everything you've gained instead of dwelling on everything you've lost. Be magnetic. Get your head out of the clouds and keep your feet planted forward. Live live live with no regrets. Stop romantacizing. Be realistic. Be smart. Do what you gotta do. Don't give up hope. Remember that things were never really quite the way you want to remember them being. Count down in place of tears.

sukiyaki

snowmageddon

The news has started referring to tomorrow morning's expected snowfall as a "snowmageddon" and the city's up in arms. But 20 cm of snow isn't going to ruin my spirits! If anything, 20 cm will only make future skating adventures that much more festive.








I felt so free!

like tadpoles

Winter decided to show its face again tonight. As much wrapping as I've been doing, and as many carols as I've been humming along to, this season hasn't fully hit me yet, and it'll be over in a handful of days. A lady today told me that my wrapping looked "like crap" and kept complaining about how overpriced it was. I wanted to say "Hey lady, it all goes to charity. Chill," but my palms kept sweating as all my corners went to shit.

Today my horoscope told me: "you're coping bravely with your challenges, but the strain is beginning to take its toll. That's why imminent good events will come as a great relief." My feet have been dragging so much lately I gotta believe these few lines are true.

I saw the movie Toronto Stories today. Please save yourself $10 and avoid it. If you want to see the city, just spend 2.75 on a streetcar ride instead. I'd suggest the Queen car; although pretty unreliable, it gives you a perfect view of the city as it heads over the DVP. Get those cameras ready folks! The pictures are especially lovely at night.

Also, I want to go back to 1985 and fall in love with Bruce Springsteen. Fo' reals. He'd wear plaid like no man has ever worn plaid since, and he'd be all caring and worried and tell me to put on my stockings at night, and he'd beg me to meet him on the streets of Atlantic City, and he'd say "Well now, everything dies, baby, that's a fact. But maybe everything that dies someday comes back."

don't walk away in silence

This song is all the messy missing and understanding I'm feeling rolled into a mere four minutes. I might not understand right this very second, but in an hour or so I know I'll be fine again and that thought is reassuring.

soon

temptation

I never met anyone quite like you before.

fairytale of new york

Up, down, turn around
Please don't let me hit the ground
Tonight I think I'll walk alone
I'll find my soul as I go home

The days are flying by in visions of bows and gold wrap. I am done writing for the time being, and beers are warming me against the cold. I want to buy the most perfect presents for all those I hold the dearest. I've taken to walking alone at night just fine. I sometimes forget for a full twenty-four hours. I want to go ice skating and build snowmen and have a tobogganing race. I want to watch Winona Ryder and Ethan Hawke fall in love all over again and I want to sing along to that other Lisa. And I hope this happiness lasts because I like the way I'm feeling.

519

It might just be the essay in my talking, but right now I'd give anything for one of those summer nights a few years back where the air was warm and still and my arms were completely bare and I'd walked all the way from the train station and the leaves along Central were so green and it was busy but still quiet in a smaller town way and everything felt safe and familiar and patio lights blurred and hugs were given and it felt good to be back.

devil town

"Music for cold nights under incomprehensible stars, for cups of coffee and cigarette smoke, for a long walk by the river where you might be alone or you might meet someone. It is music for encounters in shabby stairways, the music of lovemaking in a narrow bed, the tendernesses, the caress, the pull of strong arms and legs. Music for men and women thin as bones. Music for your invisibility. Music for your warms that ache from longing from wishing he might be standing at the top of the stairs waiting to take the bags and then lean over and kiss you and even his silly stubble scratching your cold face would be welcome and you only discover that you're crying when you try to find your keys-- Music for a day in the fall when you buy a new coat and think perhaps you will live here for the rest of your life, perhaps it will be possible, you have changed so much, would they recognize you? would you recognize your country? would you recognize yourself?"

My days are brimming over with plans and this city sleeps under a blanket of snow. I feel more and more like myself again. I am not writing an essay I should be. I'm wondering where the love goes when it's over. I'm re-reading words and wishing I hadn't and remembering forgotten safeness. I'm making plans. I'm excited for three days from now, and all the days and weeks following. I love Beach House. I'm willing the unknown. Finally.

I also love perfectly timed packages from best friends in faraway places. My wombmate knows me well, and knows just what will cheer me up. I can't wait for a faraway reunion out east. But in the meantime, her love sent express post will tie me over.

You come running in on platform shoes

This essay will be done in mere days, and after that all I want to do is wrap the prettiest presents and invite friends over for delicious flatbread sandwiches filled with roasted red pepper hummus and feta and sundried tomatoes and another ingredient I haven't quite figured out yet and I want to take long walks in the sun and I want to take more photos and drink more wine and clean this room and re-arrange furniture and play with Kirby and drink more tea and watch movies that remind me of Christmas (Beautiful Girls, Serendipity, While You Were Sleeping) and go ice skating and play in the snow and read the books I want to read and take up sewing and fashion myself a new wardrobe and bake endless cookies and dance to Teen Age Riot in a room lit with Christmas lights.

vogue

I'm starting to feel more and more like myself each day.

goodbye

I feel as though I've bid so many goodbyes in the last little while. Goodbye you and you and you, goodbye this memory or that, goodbye seasons, goodbye school, goodbye goodbye goodbye!

But in her case, I know it's not so much goodbye as it is farewell for now. We will meet again soon, and in the meantime there's always nocturnal chats to keep us busy and connected. Stay good, my dear.

Oh, and with all these goodbyes come new beginnings that make me so happy and hopeful for the days ahead. It's not just my part that's changing.

in that harbour of a room, you'll find your anchor soon

stuff

Who knew a bag of mere things could mean so much and still smell of so many memories.

put on your stockings baby cause the night's getting cold

Last night was warm and fuzzy and the night before was warm and fuzzy, too, and probably the night before as well and the music was loud and there were flashes of red floating across the walls and it was warm and I danced along with guilty pleasures and sang along with middle school memories and forgot for a moment and it was warm and I saw a couple embrace on a fleeting platform before the dark swallowed me and I was happy for them and parents crowded around windows with cameras clutched in mitts and a tree shone blue for a moment as I passed by and it was warm and I walked alone and it was dark and silent and I walked alone and I burnt my fingers three times and remembered things I wanted to tell but have since forgotten and I tied the biggest bow and I dressed myself in plaid and I fell asleep with a book in my hands and I forgot why I was there and I was warm.

(guilty) pleasures

I know as an English Lit grad student, I should not openly admit to loving Twilight but the cat's out of the bag. Aside from it's horrendous writing and very very VERY problematic elements, the series has captured my attention for the past week (including staying up to 5am one night/morning to see if Bella and Edward would make it). And maybe this is exactly why I love it so. The fantastical love story that does not and could not ever resemble anything close to reality even trumps the Buffy/Angel/Spike triangle. I am easily swept up into a romance of excessive love, albeit shrouded with vampires and werewolves. Plus it doesn't hurt that I picture Robert Pattinson's face emitting from the pages.

Oh, and I love this, too. But no apologies needed in this case:

lately

Because sometimes I've used up all my words.