Mel

There's a drumming noise inside my head,
that starts when you're around.
I swear that you could hear it,
it makes such an all mighty sound.
There's a drumming noise inside my head,
that throws me to the ground.
I swear that you should hear it,
it makes such an all mighty sound

Louder than sirens,
louder than bells,
sweeter than heaven,
and hotter than hell.

I ran to a tower where the church bells chime,
I hoped that they would clear my mind.
They left a ringing in my ear,
but that drum's still beating loud and clear

Louder than sirens,
louder than bells,
sweeter than heaven,
and hotter than hell.
Louder than sirens,
louder than bells,
sweeter than heaven,
and hotter than hell.
Louder than sirens,
louder than bells,
sweeter than heaven,
and hotter than hell.

As I move, my feet towards your body,
I can hear this beat, it fills my head up,
and gets louder, and louder.
It fills my head up, and gets louder and louder.

I run to the river and dive straight in,
I pray that the water will drown out the din.
But as the water fills my mouth,
it couldn't wash the echoes out,
but as the water fills my mouth,
it couldn't wash the echoes out.
I swallow the sound and it swallows me whole,
till there's nothing left inside my soul,
as empty as that beating drum,
but the sound has just begun.

As I move, my feet towards your body,
I can hear this beat, it fills my head up,
and gets louder, and louder.
It fills my head up, and gets louder and louder.

There's a drumming noise inside my head,
that starts when you're around.
I swear that you could hear it,
it makes such an all mighty sound.
There's a drumming noise inside my head,
that starts when you're around.
I swear that you could hear it,
it makes such an all mighty sound.

Louder than sirens,
louder than bells,
sweeter than heaven,
and hotter than hell.
Louder than sirens,
louder than bells,
sweeter than heaven,
and hotter than hell.

As I move, my feet towards your body,
I can hear this beat, it fills my head up,
and gets louder, and louder.
It fills my head up, and gets louder and louder.


-Mel

And then I found out that Jason cheated on me...

and though I felt like crap about it, I feel about 300% less guilty for breaking up with him now.

Snow has a tendency to change the landscape. I first noticed in the parking lot of the bar where my ex boyfriend works. Normallly it's a rough, slightly lopsided and deeply furrowed place. When it's empty, there's still a deep demarcation in the earth between where cars park and where they just drive through.

Winter hasn't been necessarily kind to my city. It came in with a whimper. Strangely, the cold held off til well into the season, not hitting til late November, or even early December. Normally kids Trick-Or-Treat in costumes two sizes too big to accomodate heavy down coats, often wearing skimasks that obscure their painted faces. But when winter did arrive, it arrived fast and heavy. Many inches of snow fell, and the temperatures plummeted to the negative 30s.

A few weeks later, the temperatures have normalized, but the snow remains, not necessarily on main roads and well manicured lots, but definitely on surface streets and the dirt lots attached to the local dives.

Since breaking up with him - for reasons more to do with lack of compatibility than lack of love - I have done my best to avoid situations and places where I would have even the slightest chance of seeing his face, lest I throw myself in his arms. I believe entirely that I would beg him to take me back, that if he did I would adopt a policy of feigned ignorance to all the things that doom our relationship in the long term.

However, there are some things you can't avoid doing. Really, it was only the most tenuous connection that brought me face to face with the reality of being without him - if not necessarily face to face with him. A relatively recent addition to my circle of friends is a girl named Shanna who I knew mostly from being at opposite ends of a social grapevine. Now we work together, and have something resembling a growing friendsship.

In any event, needed a ride to her car the morning after a night out. Because the group of people she spends most of her time with has a generous overlap with the staff of the bar, including my ex, her vehicle was there. Of course, so was my ex's roommate's car, I suspected he had borrowed it, and that he was working 11am-2pm, cleaning up after the night's revelry was over. After making certain that my friend's car had started, I left the parking lot with unnecessary speed.

Snow had recreated the lot. Ruts and furrows had been smoothed over, and instead of taking me through the normal winding path from the sunken parking lot to the street, my four-wheel drive was able to take a more direct route out over the snow flattened ground.

The snow had, in a sense, been beaten into the ground. I can definitely relate to the feeling. I've spent more than a few nights recently cuddled up to my own guilt over the situation. I'm wanting desperately to call him and try to work it out, distracting myself with DVD seasons of tv shows, social calls with friends, books, food, work, oversleeping, anything and everything. All of it, just trying to move on, and find a clear perspective on what I'd like to do next.

But all of the distraction in the world can't erase the awful feeling connected to having ended our two-plus year relationship, over problems that most would consider minor at best. Of course I knew those problems were destined to grow to issues that would end our relationship in a much more pyrotechnic fashion. I used this breakup as a preventative measure, and much like how the winter came in, our relationship went out with a whimper.

In both cases, I prefer the whimper over the bang. At least with a whimper, things were able to stay relatively warm, if not just cold enough to be slightly uncomfortable.

A flatter earth had been engineered by that snow. A quicker escape from the possibility of being seen by the one person I couldn't stand to see had been possible. The parking lot itself became full of more possibilities than just easily parked cars and hasty escapes, for a second I pictured ball hockey on the flat snow, safe tobagganing on the banked sides.

I am still unsure what the flattening of myself will lead to. At this moment, I want very much to have my Jason back. I want our comfortable life, the sense of belonging that automatically accompanied being wrapped in his arms. At the same time, I can no longer abide the problems that were causing our small fissures. Things would have to change, quickly and permanently, before I could consider crawling back into the safety net that is my love for him. He would have to change his schedule, I would have to change my expectations, and we would have to meet in the middle.

I've often described our relationship as what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. The stubbornness, so deeply ingrained in both of us, would have to be lessened. Would we meet in the middle? Could we?

Right now, there's radio silence between us. We're scheduled to start speaking again at some point after the craziness of the holiday season has ebbed. My heart of hearts hopes that during this time, he will rearrange the priorities in his life, change his mind about constantly working, and want me back. My more rational self fears - and halfway knows - that that won't happen.

So now what? As far as "us" goes, we plan on remaining friendly, no matter what happens in the future. We also plan on leaving open the possibility for future romance, should our life paths happen to become a little less divergent.

As for me, the future is relatively without definition. Somewhat like that flat bowl of a parking lot, I like to think of myself as an open space, waiting to be molded with the next set of adventures, the next batch of new people to meet, the next set of challenges in my career, the next life steps, the next love, the next loss. I look forward to the future, though admittedly I'd look forward to it more gleefully if I could have a perfect relationship with the only man I feel I've ever truly loved. But nonetheless, I look forward. I don't know what else to do. What else I can do.

-Mel

I started updating about things that annoy me about social media. For instance, some people I know were using it as a platform to go after the thematic content of a specific genre of art. They however, had no life experience in their upper middle-class white Christian Canadian lifestyle that even began to give them any insight on why those themes and styles might be present in someone's work. Not that my upper middle-class Atheist Canadian lifestyle has afforded me that experience either, but in my old age, I'm really preferring not to jump to conclusions about things I don't 100% understand, especially where subjective arts are concerned.

Or, the guy who developed a tres scientific theory having to do with our society asking teens as young as 12 - 14 to start pulling their own weight with some form of job... and linking that particular phenomena with the problems of teen drug use and promiscuity, citing that those activities (i.e. delivering papers on Sundays, speedballing then fucking the entire football team) have a causal relationship because they're both "adult" things to do. His solution involved letting kids pursue less lucrative activities, like sports - to let kids be kids. Of course, at the moment, he's not taking into account that: A) kids might need to deliver some papers to pay for sports. And B) maybe promiscuity and drug use in teens are caused by a cocktail of mitigating factors, up to and including everything from abusive adult figures to say, the stellar educational system that succeeded in leading HIM to such a sociologically sound conclusion.

But then I realized that, in it's original format, my update would have been taking part in the same things these two were - sharing opinions via social media because, hey, deadjournal is giving me a journal, just like these people were given twitter and facebook... so SOMEONE must want to hear my opinion right? It's hypocritical to even mention, really, but I'm freaking leaving it. :)

Unfortunately, my life keeps coming apart and then being duct-taped back together with a regularity that makes it rather hard to keep track of, therefore, anything else I might feel the inclination to write in this update is going to boring as shit.

1. Jason and I are actually fine. I've calmed down, he's come around on the idea of living together (obviously I wasn't being as ridiculous and mean as I thought I was) We're working on finding a place together eventually, and although my financial situation is regoddamndiculous - THANKS MOM! - we're finding out that money is important... but love is helping bridge the gap when we run out of food. Hopefully that keeps up. If we added some more food to that mixture, it'd be a great one.
2. As per my last update, I've decided to keep peacemaking with people from my past purely in the realm of "people who I am still friends with from my past", enemies and frenemies need not apply, yet at least. There are more practical issues that need to be dealt with before I can start sorting through old memories and baggage.
3. I still miss my dad a lot, and not a day goes by when I don't think about him or mention him in some capacity. As it stands, I'm at least past my little phase where I saw his face multiple times on strangers, but I'm still in counseling and intend to be for the next little while.
4. I've had some hope of getting a mechanic apprentice job starting in September. I just have to wait for the nice gentleman to hopefully call me. I've been doing all sorts of superstitious things to tip the odds in my favor, so hopefully he does. My life is sort of in stasis right now, as far as jobs go. Bryan's has definitely ceased to pay the bills.

So that's that then.

-Mel

So I'm feeling pretty nostalgic tonight. I'm feeling nostalgic for a ton of things. Deadjournal, music from the 90s, backseat makeouts with boys who didn't even like me that much, awful ex boyfriends, summers of craziness, the boundless energy I used to have, good friends, bad friends, ex friends, best friends.

I guess this has been building up for a while. It's all pretty much started with my tireless quest to find a job in a mechanic shop. I have hope for a job opportunity in fall, and I'm coasting on that hope until September. After that point, I don't know what the fuck I'll do with myself.

I know for a fact that I'm getting backed into a corner at my current job. I've been stomped on way too many times for me to stop myself from complaining and whatnot, and the paycheques aren't really working out for me... but where the hell am I supposed to go from here? I can't really afford to quit without a backup plan, but I can't deal with this for much longer. I guess, in way, it speaks to my ambitions in life, that I can't handle the idea of THIS being all there IS... but it definitely doesn't make it easy to put up or shut up.

And, I don't know. I am for real stressing about my relationship -

Well. Okay. Backtrack.

I left my mom's house. I have no permanent place to live, and all of my shit is still in her basement, but I can't stand to live there another second. Her boyfriend, oh excuse me, HUSBAND now (serious redneck thrown together for a green card wedding, people.) lost his shit on me the one night, and she really didn't say fuck all about it. So now that my mother's essentially abandoned me for some asswipe, I'm bunking at Jason's house. Unfortunately, because my job is a huge shit factory, I don't even have enough money for the most half-hearted attempts at helping with rent...

So now, I'm living with a boyfriend who is totally averse to the idea of living together, not paying for much - just meals when I can, and trying to clean and do laundry to bluff my way into some semblance of usefulness...

And I'm losing my shit pretty much every time a situation DOESN'T call for it. I know where it comes from, at least partially: I'm furious - possibly to the point of hating - with my mother, the second anniversary of my father's death/his 49th birthday was this month - usually a messy time of year. I'm fucking starving because there's nowhere safe to keep food in Jason's house (his roommate, as you may or may not know, is the most useless piece of garbage that ever walked the planet, and they are often engaged in some form of practical joke war. Jason happens to think that it's hilarious, I just feel tortured and unsafe. I won't even leave my soap in the shower, nevermind buy food and keep it in the fridge.) and I can only afford to eat once a day if I can't buy groceries.

All I can really afford is gas and upkeep on my car this month, because that'll be the only thing getting me to and from work, so if that goes, I'm fucked.

But the worst part is, usually when I'm with Jason, all that normally becomes way less important. Perhaps I'm not usually under THIS amount of stress, but there is normally a reasonable amount of stress in my life... so the fact that Jason's lost a bit of his calming effect on me is... worrisome, to say the least. I mean, I knew all along that if we'd ever live together, it'd be the true litmus test for our relationship... but this state of living together but still being busy people with multiple jobs isn't much different than the house-hopping form of "living together" we were doing before. There's not a lot more time being spent together so there's no reason that I should be snappy with him.

So I don't know? Are we over and not admitting it? I'd like to think no, because he's the first man I could ever... well, comfortably call him a man, for one. I can see myself with him in the future, and unlike all of my other relationships, there's no second scenario - a sort of, "well, when we inevitably break up, this is what I'll do" right now, I don't see a future, at least a <10 year future without him.

Growing paints? Good fucking lord I hope so. I hope that it's just an adjustment period, having to do more with a combination of stress, bad parents, shitty roommates, lack of food and a few other mitigating factors and I'll get over what ever it is that's driving me nuts.


I obviously just need to shop freaking the fuck out at the littlest things. But I can't. I don't know.

All this, plus now there's the added factor of my ex, who is, once again, rearing his big fat head in the peripherals of my life. A few weeks ago, Jason texts me and asks if I know anyone named Dan N********. And yeah, I do. To my chagrin, biblically. Funnily enough, he's the personification of all that is evil and wrong with the world today, yeah why baby, what happened? Well apparently, there's some legal business going on between him and the bar that Jason worked at last year. Well, Jason's tard-ass roommate, going on little but retardation and speculation decided that it OBVIOUSLY must have been something Jason had done. So, having nothing to go on but THAT assumption, I couldn't help but get at least a little stressed about it. Considering... just... everything. If Dan ever came after my boyfriend in specific, I'd probably be going to jail for Murder 1. I wish I was kidding, but...

Okay. I'm a protective crazy. So sue me. I love him.

As it turns out, the legalities have nothing to do with Jason or any of our bouncer friends, as someone not related to the bar in any capacity is actually the problem here. But yesterday, I sitll had to witness the gut-wrenching, vomit-inducing sight, of Jason shaking that monster's hand after going over to find out what was going on. Yeah. They fucking shook hands. I made Jason wash it before he touched me with it. I am so beyond disgusted that... okay. As of now, I'm just going to repress the memory and pretend it didn't happen.

But that brings up... more issue than I'm prepared to deal with right now. Am I okay? Have I been okay in any capacity since my father died? Should I just give up the ghost and quit hating Dan? ...Is my hate hurting me? Can I at all unwrap that guy from the pain of my dad's death and deal with either of those things separately? Should we just hug it out?

(For those keeping score: No, maybe, probably - but I won't, most likely, probably not, no - in case my previous wishes of leprosy upon him actually came true)

So I don't know what to do. I'm longing to make peace with my past, and that does include people from my past... but I don't know if that's a bridge I can cross yet. I would definitely like to see some other people I haven't seen in a while, maybe talk some stuff out, get fresh perspectives... but holy fuck do I ever hate that guy.

I don't know. There are a lot of things I have to deal with right now, and I don't know if running around having coffee dates with people who are only good on paper is something I have time for. What the fuck, life? What. the. fuck.




...I miss my dad. A lot.

Random Guy on a Website IM: hey can u do cyber sex with me.pls
Me: oh fuck no.
go away.
Random: ur wish
Me: yeah BYE
Random: but may i know why
ur not interested in sex
or what
Me: It's obvious you didn't read my profile
I have a fucking boyfriend, retard.
secondly, cyber sex is for losers who can't get it elsewhere
and while I feel REALLY bad for you and your sad state and all
I can get it elsewhere
so why don't you go try a fat chick or something.



Sigh.

-Mel

So I'm not dead, in case anyone was worried. ..And I'm sure no one was.

I've been working a lot, spending my mad cash on clothes I don't need and love anyway, preparing for May in Mexico for Regan's wedding, trying to spend time with Jason and generally trying to figure out the situations in friend-land.

Not that there's much wrong in friend-land, but I'm starting to feel the need to place people in some sort of... hierarchy of trustworthiness. It's not working out well so far, people surprise me far too often, and usually not for the better.

I had a job as a mechanic's apprentice lined up, but then the poor man who was GOING to hire me, lost his business due to some oil company's greediness. It's not a complicated story, but it's something I don't really want to rehash here, for my own benefit. I'm kind of off the trail of a place that's hiring right now, probably just out of depression. It's still what I wanna do, but on my days off, I can't bring myself to get out of bed early and get rejected 40 times before going home.

Mostly, my life is revolving around the sensation of not wanting to get out of bed, and being exhausted, and so on and so forth. I still go to work and have a good laugh - I've discovered that NOT ONLY am I excellent at my job, but I love those bitches so much. ...If it's not my dream job, it's still not a bad place to be waiting for it. If the apprenticeship had fallen through and I was still working at Safeway or Moxie's, I probably would have literally just given up and driven into oncoming traffic. Bryan's is for serious making waiting bearable.

I still go out with friends and have fun too... but all these things sort of involve... like, a need to psyche myself up beforehand.

Lame.

Oh, and I just had my laser surgery for my high-grade cervical lesion. It went well enough, and we topped off the day with shopping in Cowtown and it was ...fun enough. But the whole experience was incredibly high stress for me, and I'm still recovering from the fear, both physically and mentally.


And, in other news, I am selling my Sunfire, and sinking all of the profit into making the Bel Air a daily driver. I'm pretty fucking excited about it, and already have a couple possible buyers on the line for the Sunfire, so hopefully all goes well with that.

And that's really it. I have to get ready for work now.

-Mel

Trying to update about something of consequence.

It's not really happening for me right now.

I GOT NEW USERPICS.

It's been a crapy couple days, cuz, hormones.

Hopefully, that shit doesn't keep up.

I think I might need to get my pills readjusted, maybe get onto the lower doseage.

Woo, life.



On the bright side, I really like my new job.

-Mel

So I'm sitting on my couch this morning watching CNN...

Actually. No. I can't bear to watch CNN anymore. Jon Stewart has completely obliterated my ability to take those talking heads seriously and I just can't even leave it on.

So music is cool.

I've been thinking a lot about the art of justification and the art of deception. More than anything, I've come to notice, that justifications are just a form of self-deception. Obviously there are everyday justifications for doing things, I can justify maintaining a job because I need the money to further my goals in life. I can justify reaching out to friends daily because I love those people and I want to speak with them. But those aren't the justifications I'm talking about. What I'm talking about are justifications for bad behavior, and who makes them and who doesn't.

Okay. Maybe an example would make more sense.

I know two girls, and they both committed the same crime against our friendship and the friendships between themselves and others.

Girl 1, started dating a boy who she thought was exciting and dangerous. She began to spend more and more time with him and became further immersed in his world, and less immersed in the world of her friends, who really didn't do anything other than love her and try to accept him. Eventually, her friends noticed that the boy she was dating was starting to act and treat her pretty shittily. Then, they began to notice that she was changing, and not necessarily for the better. When, out of nothing but love, they voiced these concerns and others about the lack of time she was devoting to her friendships, she became angry and went completely MIA from their lives... stopping in only occasionally to further stoke the fires of drama and hostile feelings.

Girl 2, started dating a boy who she thought was exciting and dangerous. She began to spend more and more time with him and became further immersed in his world, and less immersed in the world of her friends, who really didn't do anything other than love her and try to accept him. Eventually, her friends noticed that the boy she was dating was starting to act and treat her pretty shittily. Then, they began to notice that she was changing, and not necessarily for the better. When, out of nothing but love, they voiced these concerns and others about the lack of time she was devoting to her friendships, she became angry and went completely MIA from their lives... stopping in only occasionally to further stoke the fires of drama and hostile feelings.

Notice any difference in the situation?

Yeah. Me neither, especially because I copied and pasted, and then checked with a friend to make sure the paragraph described both girls adequately.

The difference in the situation happens a little later in the story, at the point where I had to decide which one to pursue a friendship with again. The obvious choice for me was Girl 1. And Girl 1 happens to be Lamann.

Lamann was always one for refreshing honesty, and in that we always complimented each other rather well. Girl 2, someone else... was always the kind of person who was fundamentally good, but had a problem with never being totally and completely honest with herself. Girl 2 had issues with using justifications for every shitty thing she ever did, including forcing bosses to fire her and swindling her parents into buying the car she said she'd pay for. "Yeah, well, that job's no good for me anyway so I don't care if I leave her high and dry. She'll still be my friend after." or "They give so much to my brother, I don't care if I said I'd pay for it, I deserve this." Girl 2 is also not one who's prone to changing or getting rid of her justifications.

Girl 2 did nothing but excuse her withdrawing behavior by blaming it on us. We were snobby, we were uncaring, we wanted her to be alone, we were racist, we were nasty, we didn't understand her truly deep and all-consuming love. She ignored all evidence to the contrary: midnight cruising sessions where we tried valiantly to soothe her hurt feelings over something, our honest efforts to get to know her boyfriend, early morning pick-ups from insane places, losing our shit over racist comments made by other people, understanding love because we had it ourselves, long talks in which we expressed how badly we just wanted her to find real happiness.

Justifications, as they stand, just seem to me as such a potent form of self-deception. If you can find somewhere to place blame for your own actions you can continue on a path that may or may not be destructive, but one that's filled with denial either way.

So in the above case, when reunited with Lamann, we sit down and have a heart to heart. And not in the sense where you have a heart to heart and only expose your most obvious feelings, this was different. This was a full on expression of feelings and guilt associated with feelings and just an incredible outpouring of sentiment, both good and bad. Lamann expressed to me that she had done some shitty things by leaving us all for boyfriends repeatedly, and felt guilt over wasting all that friend-time. She took full responsibility for her awful choices and apologized. I expressed to her that I had tremendous guilt about some of the things I said about her when I was in my more hurt and angry phases of our friend-hiatus, and moreso when I realized that none of that was true. I also explained to her that, while I had said some awful shit in the beginning of the process, I also really came to appreciate all the help she'd given me over the course of our friendship. I took full responsibility for my ridiculousness and apologized.

I think, in that instant, we displayed for each other a complete lack of justification for our actions, and a complete honesty, in that the bad things we've done were all our fault.

It's that outpouring of honesty that has really prompted me to take a closer second look at some more of my own actions, because I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I don't believe I want to live in denial about anything. I've taken some big steps already in the last few years, becoming accepting and aware of sexual orientations, types of relationships, family arrangements, drug use and of course the very real possibility of death.

But it occurred to me: in my quest to be totally honest to everyone in my life, I would never properly achieve my goal if I wasn't totally honest with myself. If that meant blaming myself for every shitty thing I've done, then that's what I had to do. I've since been trying to examine all the traumatic situations in my life with a more objective eye... as it turns out, in most of the situations I've definitely handled things better than I originally gave myself credit for but in a few, there was definite room for improvement.

It was good for me to own up to all the nasty things I said about Lamann while our friendship was on hold, and it's something I plan on trying from now on. REALLY evaluating the choices I make, and not just how they work in my benefit but how they work in other people's.

This means that, eventually I'm going to have to start evaluating my friendships a well, because with this new focus on self-deception, I'm starting to see that I have some friends who do it far too often. And I'm starting to wonder if I can be friends with people who DO that... like... it's a lot of thinking to do.

I guess what I'm sort of slowly coming around to, is that I can't STAND people who I think are stupid. So if denial is perhaps the greatest form of stupidity, and if justifications for bad behavior are the same as self-deception, and if self-deception leads to a life of denial... then isn't the practice of justifying nasty practices the same as being stupid? I'm starting to believe it is.

I really want to look back at my life and know I was a person that I could be proud of. So I guess it's time to start working really hard so that I can be.

Hmm.

-Mel

Hey journal... sup...

So I'm pretty sure basically no one reads this thing anymore. And to be perfectly honest, the lack of a constant audience sort of dampens my enthusiasm for updating. But, you might have noticed that I'm kind of a firm believer in the whole concept of introspection leading to revelation...

So update.

Okay.

So I guess the biggest news of late, is that I made up with Lamann. Now that it's happened, I'm actually fairly certain that it was going to happen all along. If I think about it, she and I went through a similar thing when she was dating a guy in high school and abandoned us. Once I got past the point where I was saying insulting things about her out of hurt and anger, and had moved on to the point where I was just grateful for the friendship we used to have, it was pretty much just a matter of timing things out so that we were at similar points in our lives and able to coordinate them again. The whole situation is very comforting to me, especially because she seems to be at a really honest and accepting point in her life, so it's really nice to just pass unconditional acceptance back and forth and enjoy each other's company. I really don't think that that'll ever happen with any other friend I've lost, and I'm very grateful that I at least get THIS one back.

In any event, we've both decided to own up to all the shitty things we've said and done to each other, and really just own our personal choices. I honestly believe that that's what's allowing us to proceed like we are at the mo, because unlike a lot of people, I don't think we're trying to be friends based on anything but what huge messes we both are or can be... not on any sort of false pretenses or fantasies of the people we'd like to be. I forgot how refreshing it is to be friends with someone who doesn't strive for perfection and is genuinely happy with what they have. It definitely helps me feel more grounded and centered.

On the downside, my dreams of being a mechanic are so totally fucking on hold. No place will take me on as an apprentice, because no one is taking me seriously... due to my being a girl. The ONLY guy who took me seriously was at City (so go there. Buy a nice Dodge, Chrysler or Jeep from them) and he unfortunately already had two apprentices going. My OWN mechanic went ahead and said to my face that he doesn't like having women in the shop. I will probably be shopping around for a new mechanic for my babies.

So yeah, I've settled for a retail job at the moment, but at least it's one where I can dress like a normal human being and NOT in that ridiculous fucking goddamn Safeway uniform, or the fucking Moxie's shirt that makes anyone who's not upsettingly skinny look like a fucking TANK. The master plan is to take pre-trades at the College and HOPEFULLY then be taken a little more seriously when applying for apprenticeship. I would really like to HAVE money left over for life after I finish training, so I also plan on continuing to drop resumes ANYWHERE where they might take me a little seriously. So probably I'll just call the guy at City Dodge Chrysler Jeep a lot.

Fuck.

It really is enough to make you want to give up sometimes. Maybe I'll try becoming a plumber or a welder. I know some welders, who would maybe help me out. I just want a nice trades job with lots of demand and a ton of money. Is that so fucking much to ask? I'm willing to work my fucking ass off for it, and it's infuriating that people who are more stupid and LESS hardworking than I am are more prone to get into that stuff... on the basis of having a cock.

I am literally thinking of doctoring my resume a little so I sound like I could possibly be male. That's how Renee got one of HER callbacks... she's having a rough time too, and SHE HAS A FUCKING CLASS ONE LICENSE WITH ALL HER TICKETS. Like, are you fucking kidding me guys? She's got a license to drive a fucking big rig, her H2S and ALL OF IT, and you're STILL not going to hire her on basis of her chickdom? Fucking ridic.

At least I'm not going through it alone, I guess. We can lean on each other when it comes to the employment stuff.

So I have a doctor's appointment coming up.

OH. REWIND.

I went and had a biopsy done on my cervix for cancer. On the bright side, the guy flat out said that I don't have any cancer in there... but on the bad side, I have to go see my doctor at the end of this month for the results, and if the result is a "high-grade lesion", they're going to have to go in there and burn my cervix with a laser. Oh, and the biopsy hurt so fucking much that I thought I was going to get a hernia in there and just fucking die. Not to mention the horrible little piece of surgical silk that they put in there for the bleeding that sort of just... came out later. Ugh. Fuck. Gross.

So that wasn't fun. And I cried way too much that day, because I wasn't looking forward to dying a horrible death on chemo. But at least the worst part of it is over. Oh, and of course they put the little cervix chopping machine in the CANCER WARD. JUST TO MAKE YOU FEEL REALLY AT EASE, RIGHT?

K. Doctor's appointment. I think it's on the 28th (I should probably find out so I can tell my new employer) and during that appointment, after I find out whether or not we have to fire a laser into my parts, I'm going to ask about getting some psychiatric help, I don't know if I'll be able to schedule it around the job, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Maybe I'll just find a counsellor to talk to somewhere instead of a full-blown psychiatrist, It's not like I'll even accept or take drugs if someone prescribes them, so why even bother aiming for someone who CAN? It'd probably be a lot easier to schedule around a counsellor anyway. But mostly, I think I just need someone with some kind of training who I can talk to about the problems I have.

Which, okay. I need to be perfectly honest here, and say that I'm mostly agreeing to this for Jason's sake. In the past, if I was alone, or in one of my shitty relationships with people, I would just be content with my depression and relax in it. I know myself pretty well, and I know for a fact that eventually these stupid little depressive phases of mine pass... and also that I hardly feel them at all when I'm occupied with something.

But, he made it clear to me that he would break up with me for my own sake. And not in that fucking ridiculous martyr way that some dudes pull, where they're trying to "do you a favor" but they're actually a massive douche with nothing on their minds but themselves... but in a way where he literally told me that he values me, my mental health, and my wellbeing above not only himself, but our relationship. That upset me to no end, of course, and he totally rebuked himself after saying it, because he doesn't want to, and it certainly wouldn't HELP the situation if he did... but it really opened my eyes to what's important in my life.

Obviously, I am the number one most important person in my entire existence, and I have to take care of myself above and beyond everything. But the person who comes in close second to me is Jason. So if I do MYSELF a favor, and get someone to talk to, even just intermittently when things feel heavy, then I'll be doing myself another favor in the process... and that's keeping a healthy relationship with him going even longer. And the way things are going so far, that would be nothing BUT beneficial to me. Hell, even my resolution to TRY and get help and TRY and be healthier has improved things greatly. There's really no downside to looking into my options for counseling.

Other than that, like doing it the official way, I mean, I sort of resolved-without-officially-resolving to take better care of myself and try to live more honestly. So we'll see how that goes. I think that I make that little resolution a lot, and maybe sometimes have to renew it, either as I start to suck a little again, or just reach a plateau in general.

Plus, things just feel a lot more relaxed in my life, now that I have a job (and it doesn't matter who out of the 5000000 billion resumes I passed out does or doesn't call me because I had one interview and got hired on the fucking spot and I HAVE INCOME), the holidays passed more of less hitch-free, my mom and her stupid boyfriend are gone so I get to relax in my house again... So I'd say that the bulk of my depression is lifting. For now, anyway.

There are, of course, some things I really have to deal with better than I am. For instance, even though I am seriously able to laugh at my ex and that whole ridiculous situation... the fact that I still wish him a fiery, leprosy-ridden death in a ditch filled with rotting garbage is probably not incredibly healthy. There's also the whole thing where I desperately miss the person my best friend used to be. ...And I'd sort of like it if she'd leave the planet so I could forget she ever existed and close the chapter on that one cuz it hurts too fucking bad. Those things need to be dealt with better than I am currently dealing with them, but I really have no idea when and how I am going to be able to help myself out with those things.

Oh well. I think it's time to not be updating anymore though.

-Mel

PS: The song I'm listening to is boss.

3...

2...

1...

Go to your calendar and find the first entry for each month of 2008. Post the first line of it in your journal, and that's your "Year in Review".
I used my first entries with text, because lot of them were straight-up picture posts with no text.

January: Happy 2008, probably.
February: Two days ago, he came over and surprised me with pink carnations for no reason.
March: I wrote something lengthy and somewhat introspective about the events of the last year, and the accompanying bitterness.
April: "The ratio of things you're saying, relative to my interest level, is WAY TOO FUCKING HIGH."
May: Dear Friend:
June: I don't understand people who don't love The Boss.
July: So I've been around. Trying too hard to keep myself away from thoughts about my dad. July 4th would have been his birthday, and July 14th was the first anniversary of his death.
August: I find pretty much everyone I know to be exhausting.
September: So I think I might have left off in my life with stuff having to do with Edmonton and crappy friends and other things that I'm sure one day will make a really, really campy novelization of my life.
October: Feeling pretty fucking lucky tonight, if I dare say it.
November: Dear James Woods: I would have sex with you.
December: So after my last entry and the Case of the Incredible Screaming Douchebag and His Laptop-That-Ends-The-World-Upon-Closure, I moved into my grandmother's house for approximately two weeks.


That pretty much sums it up.

-Mel

New S2 layout.

I am so done trying to be a unique snowflake.

-Mel

So it's Christmas. It's supposed to be some kind of special and magical time of year. That part, I don't know about, but I heard somewhere that it's a time for honesty and a bunch of other shit like that. It's not that I'm not honest at other times of year, but maybe this is a time for a couple of open and nameless letters... and because this is my journal and I get to write whatever I want here... I'll just get on with it.

1. I miss you so much. There's a lot of things I did while you were alive that I feel regret for, not realizing exactly how sick you were and how much that fucked with your personality. I know that because of differences in our lifestyles, we'd never agree on everything... but I know that with a little effort from both of us, we could have had a really special relationship in the last few years of your life. I wish you had been more honest with me though, you told my mother you didn't think you'd make it to 50, and you always told me I'd be pushing your chair around at the old folk's home. You didn't make it to 50. If I had had any idea you felt that way about yourself and your life... I don't know. Maybe I would have loved you better. As it is, I love you now... and as much as I really find it hard to believe in god or an afterlife... I still kind of hope that you can see this anyway, because ... well, it eases my guilt over that day in the hospital. There's not a day that goes by where I don't think of you, and some stuff has happened recently that's really made me wish you could come and protect me from it, and I wish you could. I know you'd love my Jason like the son you never got to have, because he's an incarnation of all the best parts of you... and I'm so happy I found that. I wish you could see me grow up, and see how my life unfolds. If you were here now, I'd even consider letting you walk me down the isle... I didn't realize how much I needed you in my life until you couldn't be anymore, and I am so sorry. I love you.

2. You've never changed your mind about a damn thing in your life. Sure, you've formed new opinions on new things that entered your sphere of consciousness... but you've never changed one in your entire existence. Knowing you, you'll keep butting your head up against those same brick walls, because you'll never ever admit to being wrong. In a way, I just feel sad for you, because it seems like you don't have the drive to go anywhere. It's also upsetting to think of a person I used to hold so dear, becoming a target because of the associations you've chosen to have. It scares me to think that the police know everything about you - and don't kid yourself, they do. - license plate, car make and model, description, record, known associates, favorite haunts, etc. They probably know how many hairs are on your head and when your last period was... and it's silly, because as far as I can tell, you don't do anything illegal or harmful, but since you've chosen a life that relates to people who might... you're a target, and hopefully NOT a victim. I miss you so much, it's not even funny. I miss knowing that my exact friend-match was only a phone call away, and that'd she'd take care of anything I ever needed. I miss having the funniest conversations ever, a good cruise with a great friend, a shoulder to cry on, and all those other things that the perfect friend used to be. It hurts worse now, because I need the old you back, I need and want her back so much it hurts to breathe sometimes... and I wish you could save me now, the way I always tried to save you. I miss you so much and I wish we could just rewind back to high school so I could savour those moments before you packed up and left me for new friends. I just wish you'd never forgotten about me, decided I was awful, and walked away.

3. I hate you. You make everything in my life just that much worse, from talking to my mother to sitting in my room. There is no moment that your presence can't wreck. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE.

4. I miss you guys. I know we're all busy, with school and work and christmas and family and friends who aren't each other... but I just hope you'll remember to call sometimes. I'm really fucked up right now, and I know that I don't seem to be able to think too far outside myself... but I want you to remember me, and notice that I'm gone, and maybe even miss me if that's not too much to ask. Please just call me. I feel such huge twinges of embarrassment to call you, especially because I'm such a fucking mess. Please just reach out, I'll reach back but ... I'm too scared to do it first. I'm sorry, and if you're upset with me, please just let me know so I can make it better. I can't lose any more friends guys, I'll just die. Please just love me like I love you, I promise to be worthy of it sooner or later.

5. I love you more than words can say. I feel like I don't do enough: I don't say I love you enough, I don't fuck you enough, I don't dress up enough, I'm not calm enough... but you say I do and I am. I've never met a person who was exactly like me, in that your nature is so beautifully dual, so incongruent that it meshes, so multi-directional that it flows perfectly. Everyone sees one side of you, the side that manically bastes watermelons in vodka at parties, that cracks stupid jokes we don't get, that challenges all takers to rock/paper/scissors duels. And don't mistake, I love that more than anything, and it was that carefree sweetness that drew me to you... but I also see the calm and practical way in which you live your life. I see the side of you that buys the most wonderfully thoughtful gifts (money permitting), that can paint the prettiest 8x6 landscapes (time permitting) and who methodically plans every detail possible... Sure, it's totally contrasting to my public "too cool for school" demeanor, my relatively thoughtful gift-giving, my total lack of any artistic or musical talent, my complete urge to jump headfirst into any craziness possible... but I just think you balance and compliment me so well. You keep me from diving off bridges, into fights, into depression. I love that you pretend to like my cats, that you can't not snuggle when we sleep together, that you're always so warm, that you basically never get angry at me, that you're always cooking up silly schemes, that you get along with my mom... and that you're everything I ever wanted in a man. The best thing that ever happened to me was when rich boy dumped me, and I decided to try and be as awesome as I possibly could. Without that decision, I never would have had the guts to come to your "ragin'" party, and start getting to know you. And a life where I'd never met you, no matter what the outcome of our relationship is... is not a life I think I could have dealt with. Please baby, try not to get sick of me for a while, and I'll try to be even better for you. If I'm only dreaming that I'm with you, I'd like to never wake up.







Those are all the people I can think of for now.

I'd like to put a couple of lyrics ( behind this cut )

-Mel

I don't think I can always be so helpful. I think I need some help. And I definitely don't think I can be the person everyone needs me to be. The only way I'm going to get through the next couple months, is if I be the person I need me to be. Which is fucking great for me, you know, if I knew who that was.

I am a pretty serious mess right now.

Oh well. I have a feeling I'll end up making it. Call it a hunch. Or like a half-dead struggling hope. But it's there.

I just don't know how I can make it through a life full of people who enjoy hurting other people. That's something you have to think about, when you're me.

Sometimes, I wish I was totally oblivious to things going on around me. That would make it easier to function.

I really don't know how I'm going to be from one day to the next.

I mean, yesterday I was feeling pretty high, because I found out that I don't have cancer. Which was pretty freaking nice, to have something go off perfectly well and without a hitch for just one time in my life.

But today is a whole different story.

At least I don't have cancer?

-Mel

PS: I don't know why, but I decided the background here now needs to be purple.

So I sent the Facebook Support Team the following email:

From: Mel L (xxxxxx@hotmail.com)
To: abuse@facebook.com (abuse@facebook.com)
Subject: no subject

Hi facebook staff. My name is Mel Lambert, and my profile can be found here {link}. A while back a friend and her boyfriend xxxxxxx xxxxxxxx ... deleted their facebook profiles. She came back, but his remained deleted. [some details that are none of the public's business] To the best of what I can figure out, he undeleted his profile today, (my hotmail said around 7am, but now the message is gone) and starting leaving harassing comments on my statuses and whatnot. When I woke up around 11am and checked out facebook, the stuff was gone and apparently so was his profile. So I'm wondering, is there any way the guy can be blocked, so that when he starts undeleting or whatnot, I'm already not an option for his issues and I don't have to block him in whatever little interim of time I can get before he deletes again?

Please help if you can, and don't hesitate to email back if you believe I can help you out with any further details or anything, thanks!

-Mel

Anyway, helpful little scamps that they are, they emailed back with this:

Re: no subject‏
From: Facebook Support (abusexxxxxx@facebook.com)
Sent: December 15, 2008 8:02:06 PM
To: xxxxxx@hotmail.com
Hi Mel,

I just reset your password.

Login: xxxxxx@hotmail.com
New Password: hDx7bCN

Please note that Facebook passwords are case sensitive (FACEbook is not the same as facebook). If you're having trouble with this login/password combination, I suggest copying and pasting the login and password into the appropriate fields.

Once logged in, you can change your password from the "Settings" tab of the Account page. Let me know if you have any further questions.

Please make sure that you log out of your Facebook account and quit your browser when you're done using the site. This is especially important when using a public computer or someone else's mobile device. You should also never check the "Remember Me" box when logging in from a public computer, as this will keep you logged in even after you close your browser window.

You should select a unique and complex password for your account and keep this entirely to yourself. You should also make sure that any email addresses associated with your account are secure. Remember that anyone who can read your email can probably also access your Facebook account.

Finally, please make sure that when you access the site, you always log in from a legitimate Facebook page with the facebook.com domain.

Let me know if you continue to experience security issues, and we'll investigate further. We apologize for any inconvenience this has caused.

Blocking allows you to prevent all interactions with someone on Facebook. People you block won't be able to find you in searches, view your profile, or contact you with pokes, wall posts, or personal messages. You can block people by adding their names to your block list at the bottom of the Privacy page. These people will not be notified when you block them, and any existing ties you have with them will be removed.

If you want to block someone who has already blocked you (or someone you can't find in search), just reply with the person's name and network, and we'll take care of this for you.

Thanks for contacting Facebook,

Jxxxxxx
User Operations
Facebook

Are you guys fucking drunk?

-Mel

So after my last entry and the Case of the Incredible Screaming Douchebag and His Laptop-That-Ends-The-World-Upon-Closure, I moved into my grandmother's house for approximately two weeks. I somehow managed to create and more or less follow an intensive study schedule, despite my grandmother's near constant stream-of-consciousness post-stroke nattering coming at me every single time I sat down with a book.

Although I made a reasonable effort to shift the weight burden between time at my grandmother's and time at Jason's so it was more or less equal and I wasn't spending too much time with either of them... but of course, spending that much time with an insane, conservative old woman just wasn't going to happen.

I hit a bit of a rough patch...

Well no.

Let's start closer to the beginning of that. My Psych and Soci professors, Loverock and McBride respectively, are both fantastically wonderful and understanding, and created final exams that were multiple choice and NOT cumulative for the entire course. My Poli Sci professor, Chapman, while a really great lady in her own right, actually kind of fucking sucks when it comes to exams. She managed to create for us a test in which we'd have to write an essay, a topic proposal for a fucking TEXTBOOK and a "short answer" segment (how short an answer can be when you have to explain the who, what, when, where and political significance of anything is debatable) that covers the entire course and requires a knowledge of the incredibly boring text that only a professor could even hope to have...

Well shit. Right?

Luckily, since the other two tests were so simple to study for that they literally could have MADE THEM out of pie. (Get it, easy as pie? Haaaa) I had, oh, TONS OF TIME to devote to studying all 29 chapters of the monstrous Poli Sci text. Oh, except for when I had to sleep and eat and actually make sure I wasn't just making shit up on the other tests and maybe even see my boyfriend and one of my friends if I got very lucky.

Between that, having a constant eye out for a new vehicle (while simultaneously looking at my Sunfire in that wistful way that a fat man about to go on a diet looks at cake), dealing with each! crazy! new! drama! that was tossed my way, and FEELING LIKE I WAS FORCED OUT OF MY HOUSE AND HAVING TO LIVE WITH A GERIATRIC... well. Um. I got a little crazy.

And the really unfortunate thing is, about people like me, who have it going so cool for so long, is that we're such fucking bottlers it's not even funny. Maybe like 1/2300 people in any given place have a life that doesn't afford them very much stress, and the rest of us who are happy are just fucking hiding the effects of everything.

For me, it was okay for a long time to just dive headfirst into other people's problems and not even worry about myself. Of course, the shitty part about that is, all my little insecure feelings about myself have to eventually bubble to the surface, so if I'm not dealing with them in a timely and healthy manner when they happen, I'm just going to have to do it later, like... now.

Anyways, in the course of that two weeks I:
- Told Jason that there's no way he'd ever love me enough to marry me or something gay like that, even though he had literally just finished telling me that he'd die trying to protect me. Because I'm a shit. I'm a stupid shit and I don't even know why he forgave me but he did. He did and I love him and he's probably already forgotten that we'd even had EITHER of those conversations and that is just... so okay with me.
- Mercilessly tormented my own mother by lording the fact that her dumbshit boyfriend had pushed me to the point where I needed to move out for a while, even though she was obviously quite distressed by the whole situation already, and honest to god, cried the day I left.
- Came to the conclusion that I moved out in the first place to have the upper hand in the power struggle between my mother's dumbshit boyfriend and I and felt perfectly fine with that, and even now, am only starting to feel just the tiniest little tendrils of guilt
- Mercilessly tormented myself about various things, including my guilt about not saying anything to my father at his deathbed (even though everyone maintains that of course he knew I was there for him), or the whole incident where my second-best friend in the entire world left me for a guy (Amanda, you two were in the running for first-best friend spot for a while there, but then she went retarded. You win by a landslide now and I have no idea why I even considered the alternative.)... anyway. I rounded that fun little guilt trip out by wishing cancer on myself. I'd really rather not talk about that. Maybe later in the entry.
- Was characterized by multiple people as "sad" on a good day, "hostile" on a mediocre day, and an adjective I won't use on some of my worst days.
- Finally realized how fucking messed up I've been. It's allowed me to identify the trigger event (Again, some bullshit or other to do with ex-"friend".) but really not done much else for me.

Anyway, sometime around the end of that little two week funtime, my mother came over to my grandmother's house where I had been laying in bed and staring at the wall for maybe 1-2 hours after my grandmother and I fought, yanked me up by the arm, told me I was depressed, and told me that there was no way she was leaving until I packed my shit and came back home with her.

She also immediately brought up putting me on medication. So I'm obviously super-stoked for my life right now. I'd rather just go see a counsellor, and, y'know, NOT be doped out of my fucking mind (and I don't care if anyone's had a good experience with anti-depressants and the like, fuck you I am not doing it.)

On the bright side, dumbshit boyfriend of my mother has not been acting like nearly as much of a dumbshit. He's now trying TOO hard, but at least I can ignore that.

On the not so bright side, there's been a few situations lately where I've missed my father more than anything in the entire world. I would literally do anything to get my dad back in my life at this point. I would go back to being with Leprosy-Hopeful Dan if that's what it took. Anything.

OH, though, speaking of Dan who's hopefully going to be found aflame in a ditch at some point, allowing me to die happy: AS IT TURNS OUT, Jason managed to sustain a testicle injury, partially due to a UTI, and partially due to... I don't even know what that fucking guy is doing half the time, so your guess is really as good as mine... and he had to go to the doctor. He had to go to Dr. DAN'SFATHER. And then, oh, and then, Dr. Dan'sfather, had to bend down and INSPECT THAT SHIT.

Just so we're on the same page here, my evil ex's father, bent down, and spent some quality time with my boyfriend's nutsack. And as for my feelings on that: Glee. Pure, unadulterated glee. Clarissa put it the most succinctly, saying "Dan is such an ass he drags his family down to the point where his DAD can't even rise above Jason's testicles".

Now, let's be clear here, there's nothing funny about my boyfriend's poor aching testicles and the two weeks that even walking made him pass out, NOR is there anything really inherently funny about the fine men and women in the medical profession (and from all accounts, the Doctor is a very nice man and I believe it.) but the picture in my head. Oh, god. The picture in my head, guys.

It does resolve it. It resolves the whole Dan debacle completely now. Now, I can hopefully get to the point where I wouldn't wish horrible and painful death on him. Because now, at least, he doesn't scare me anymore. Whenever I have that thought of Dan stalking back into my life and somehow managing to ruin it again (and that is my fear. I really thought that he'd be capable of ruining me all over again) it's soon chased by a picture of a doctor inspecting a nutsack. And all I can do is laugh, which is just... so much better than crying.


It occurs to me at this point that I've now become the people I hate, those people who really have no excuse for canceling plans, but they do because they're selfish. All my current friends are kind of like that, or we don't talk at all, or they're just so noncommittal that I don't want to feel like I'm stalking them so I lose interest and stay at home all night and watch movies. In any event, when the occasional person asks ME to do something, I am just so ready to cancel on them... because...

I guess I just want to stay inside for a while. I wanna watch a bunch of movies in a row in bed with my laptop and ignore the phone and maybe drink a little and most likely not sleep and stay up til 5 writing long rambling bullshit about my life that I'm 100% certain no one reads anymore.

I just don't care. And I really hope they'll be as persistent as I was when they were in various funks or incredibly busy, because I. do. not. care. about leaving the house ever again, unless we're talking about a liqour run, in which case let me grab my wallet cuz WE'RE FUCKING GOING (oh, and pie. I will leave the house if someone offers me pie, or to take me to where I can find pie.) but other than that... I just don't feel as though anyone really wants me, and then when someone actually does, I've already convinced me that no one does, so I just say home and sit at home and mope.

Which is totally healthy and I don't give a shit what anyone says.

I don't know anymore. Maybe I'll go to bed now.

Oh. Except for my cancer screening appointment is on Tuesday. Which is just fucking great, because if there's one thing my life needs, it's more diseases and pain. Fuck. Yeah. Man.

Whatever.

-Mel

Yesterday was pretty much bipolar. I don't mean that in the medical sense, just that it had two very definite themes going on.

So I'm driving to school yesterday, just minding my own business in my tiny fuel-efficient little car that will crumple like a tin can if it gets hit, and I changed lanes and drove in the slow lane. Then, without signalling, or OBVIOUSLY checking his blind spot, this dude in a Ford F350 (of course. You know, because Ford drivers are all stupid assholes who have no idea how to properly pilot a vehicle) starts to sideswipe me into the concrete barrier... luckily I happen to be pretty observant (especially when I'm near anyone in a truck, because I've seen enough of them pull scary moves like that around here) to pull back and not get hit. But it was close. Like, 2 seconds of reaction time close. So I shook all the way to the school... where, as it turns out, Mister Car Accident Waiting-To-Happen goes TOO.

I pulled up behind him.

Me: Hi. Dude. I need to talk to you for a second.
Him: What?
Me: You almost killed me on the highway back there. You tried to change lanes without looking and would have sideswiped me into the concrete barrier!
Him: Well. I'm sorry. But I've seen your car around here

(for the record, he's probably seen MULTIPLES of my car around here. It's a black Sunfire, and I can count about 15 in the college parking lot alone, nevermind in parking lots and driveways all over the city. I'd be willing to drop that number down to 5 and countless in driveways, just considering the way the body styles have changed as the years of Sunfire-production went by.)

and you go to fast, zipping in and out of traffic. [Said the guy going 120 in an 80 zone who almost killed a person today.]
Me: Are you fucking kidding. The fact that my car changes lanes faster than that POS ever could means that I'm a bad driver when you CHANGE LANES WITHOUT LOOKING?!?!
Him: *starts to say something*
Me: You know what, NO. I'd wish car-accident DEATH on you, but it's going to happen anyway because you're such a shitty driver, so I don't HAVE to. Have a good fucking day.


Oh, and another thing on the record, the guy's licence plate number is LCE - 354, Alberta plates. And I think he has the corner folded over so that photo radar can't catch him, because I really had to crane my neck to see the 4... omg. I should call the cops about that. :)

And then I went to a parking spot in my usual lot and started shaking and crying. I shook and cried all the way through my Poli Sci lecture, and then had to phone my mom so she could ORDER me to get back in my car and drive it home. I got in the car (and luckily, I'm not too scared to drive, even though there was a second there where I thought I would be) and shook and cried at least part of the way home. Mostly at this point, I was angry that he had tried to blame it on me and just upset for having the shit scared out of me in general.

So I get home, and we decide to take Gramma shopping. Which was actually pretty fun, save for the fact that I had to tell my story a few more times, and that made me cry all over again every time I managed to stop. But Gramma makes me laugh pretty freaking hard, so I eventually forgot about it for a while as she sat there and said funny Gramma things.

Then I came home again and finished everything on my Poli Sci paper. My crappy first draft got edited again, I tried to do my citations correctly, I made a reference page and title page... and now all that there is to do is just edit it whenever I see fit to try and maximize the mark... but the thing I have on my hard drive right now would definitely pass me with a nice grade too. So at least that's a lot of stress off my shoulders.

Anyway, later on I drove shaking over to Jason's house, and we traded keys. Because I'm too much of a girl to drive my car right now, and I like the security of driving in the biggest and most badass Chevy I've ever seen in person. There's something much safer-feeling about 2/3rds of a ton of solid steel, a pushbar that once drove through another vehicle and sustained a scratch, and a Chevrolet 350.

So it kind of begs the question what to do with my Sunfire. Obviously, I love the little girl, but the safety thing is becoming a bigger and bigger issue as the drivers in Medicine Hat get worse and worse. Everyone's noticed a steady decline in the driving skill of people around them, and most of my friends and family - myself included - now drive by clinging to the steering wheel frantically and staring wide-eyed around them like a monster is going to come stomping out onto the road. The free and relaxed feeling I used to get while driving is slowly being replaced by a constant mathematical calculation of the chances of (x) car doing (y) crazy shit and the (z) outcome of me trying to dodge it. I am also SERIOUSLY not looking forward to snowfall.

Basically, I'll be fine this year. My mother leaves for Mexico in January and she's NOT taking her truck... which means I can drive the Jimmy as much as I want. It's got 4x4 and it's much bigger and proven safer than my 'fire. This spring, I'm planning on breaking out the Bel Air with much more intensity. I want to take lessons from someone on how to most-effectively drive a rear-wheel drive, and then invest in two sets of tires: all-season and winter, sandbags, and whatever minor repairs it may need. That way, I'll have a big safe tank of a car at my disposal.

And after that, I'll need to start looking at something safer for an everyday car. In my fear yesterday, I started picking out trucks from the 70s and 80s with solid-steel bodies, but that really remains to be seen. There are a lot of pros to something like that (huge engines, safety, general badassery) but there are also a lot of cons (buying used older vehicles means maintenance, fuel efficiency and environmentalism, parking the damn thing). So, we'll pretty much have to see about that, or maybe it'll mean getting a safer car or crossover vehicle with a newer date on it. All stuff I have to consider.



Anyhow, to put the feather in my cap of a bad day, I went ahead and reheated some shepard's pie. My mom was eating in the office so I went and sat in her dumb-fuck boyfriend's usual chair, shut his laptop so I wouldn't get pie in it, and moved it off to the side. I was talking to her when he walks in and goes: "You did NOT just shut my laptop! I've been downloading something for four fucking days!" and I tell him I'm so sorry and hurry to open it. I check, and then call out to him that his download is still working just fine and that I was sorry again... and then he storms towards the office yelling: "You keep your fucking hands off my computer, I can't even believe that you..." and then my mom sort of got up, stood between us, and stared him down.

I said I was sorry again, but I was already starting to shake, because hell, I'd already been crying all damn morning, my defenses against that kind of thing were NOT back up. Her dumb-fuck boyfriend (as he will from now on be referred to by) mixed himself a drink in the kitchen (because solving nonexistent problems with alcohol is very healthy.) and then eventually walked out of the house.

That was when I lost it. Doing more of that fun shaking and crying I'd been doing all day, trying to explain to my mom that she can do much, much better. I also explained that I feel like I'm being slowly shuffled out of my own house with him here (they have a campaign going right now to "better" the house, which usually involves moving, destroying or taking something that's MINE) and how he was always nasty to me when he thought she couldn't hear. There are a lot of other grievances there too, but those are really what the whole thing boils down to. I basically told her that if I matter as much to her as she says I do, she shouldn't be with someone who doesn't like me, end of story.

So I got upset about him for a while and she tried feebly to defend him even though he's the biggest dumb-fuck we've ever met in our lives, bless her little heart... and then she finally agreed with me a little. Of course, the second he came home she was obviously planning on ripping a strip off him for it anyway, but the fact that she conceded a little ground to my face made me feel a little better.

It was about that time that Clarissa showed up for a pre-planned wine and crackers girly-night sort of thing. She saw that I was crying, said something funny:

Mom: Well, what can I do for you?
Me: What?!
Mom: What can I do for you guys so you can have a nice night? Do you need glasses?
Clair: I'm going to need a glass, I HAVE A GARNISH!
Me: ...Awesome.

grabbed tissues, glasses and a corkscrew and we proceeded to get lightly toasted on White Zinfandel and Champagne while reading Cosmo and gossiping... it was really helpful in my current situation, and a better end to the night than I think I could have otherwise expected. After she left, I spoke to Marcella briefly about the laptop closing situation, and how yes, he had every right to be angry... because the world was ending. It makes me feel better overall to have that one put in perspective, especially when we started joking about how there was a rumbling sound in Medicine Hat that night, and not because of any man-made event, but simply because the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were sent on their way, the second I closed that laptop, only to be diverted when I quickly realized my mistake and opened it again.

Tonight is going to be another girl's night, this time with a wider selection of girls, and probably dancing. Lots and lots of dancing. So that should relieve some of the mounting stress on me... hopefully.

I think that's it for this morning.

-Mel

I've decided not to go back to MHC for another semester. I love going, and I love the learning process there... but I've decided to do something a LOT less academic with my life an there's not a lot of point to wasting 900 dollars at a time for a semester of college that won't build toward what I wanna do.

So I know what you're thinking, what does this bitch wanna do that she can't do in college?

Weeeeeell... I can do the program AT the college.

But what I really want to do, the thing I can see myself doing in 5, 10... maybe 15 years...

I wanna be a mechanic.





:)


The master plan is to get a job somewhere in the automotive field for the next six months or so, at least, and concurrently go through the process to pick a school... whether it ends up being SAIT, NAIT, MHC or whichever school I can take it at in Lethbridge. I also want to work out where I can get an apprenticeship, etc.

Since this is the first time I have EVER been able to see a clear path in my life as far as career goes... I am feeling just... so very zen.

This, this is good.

-Mel

Dear James Woods: I would have sex with you. A lot of it. Or, if you're tired (as old people are wont to get) you could simply read me the phonebook. In any event, I would not be upset when you called me randomly the next day to ask me how work is going, I would even possibly accept an offer for more sex and/or phonebook recitals.

Thanks in advance,
-Mel


PS: Totally unrelated to my May-December with Jimmy up there, but I just realized how badly I need to fix up my profile.

Poli Sci:
Short Answer: 92%
Essay: 90%

Soci:
Multiple Choice: 93%
Essay: 100%

Psych:
Multiple Choice: 89%
...This one doesn't look as good as the others, but it's THE highest mark that I saw out of all of my prof's Psych 205 classes, so I'll definitely take it.

Oh thank shit, because I was pretty fucking sure that I was going to FAIL EVERYTHING EVER. I don't know why, maybe it's the fact that "college" and "midterms" sound pretty scary to someone who's not been in school for two years, and who spent the last year of high school doing things other than "giving a shit".

But yeah. Yeah yeah yeah.

Annnnnd, what else?

Have you ever been aching to tell someone something about themselves, and maybe it's harsh but it'd be really helpful in the long run, but then you don't, because the whiney drama that would ensue would be way too much for you to take because of REAL and IMPORTANT stresses in your life?

Of course you have, but I normally don't, because I normally just stand up and spit it. But it's been a very long time since a lot of things in my life have had just barely contained stress-potential... so I'm trying to be very cognizant of adding anything ELSE that could stress me out... which again, is weird for me.

Plus, I'm pretty much starting to feel like maybe some people don't deserve my guidance anymore. I know that sounds hopelessly self-centered, but let's face facts here: I have a lot of really crappy life experiences that I've managed to survive. That means that I have a huge fucking catalogue of coping mechanisms and things that allow me to deal healthily that I'd gladly share. I'm also ace at first impressions, figuring out what people are going to do, and other things that could help out someone who ...isn't so much. Also, I've usually got other people's best interests in mind... my life is handled. I might be working on school and having issues with my mom's shitty retard boyfriend... but as far as internal peace goes, I've got it, so I can take care of others.

So basically... if a person isn't grateful for the help (and I don't necessarily mean: following my advice to the letter. I DO mean however: giving an indication that they're listening, and thanking me for help that they just ASKED me for.) then... fuck 'em. Seriously guys. I am great, and I don't need to waste my time on people who are less than great.

I am such a bitch. Haha, for real.

Oh well, I guess. I am an incredibly happy bitch.

In other news: BEDTIME!

-Mel