losing my mind

Silent Sundays and my Charlotte moments…

Silence can be a beautiful thing for a noisy mind. 

I swing hard between needing complete silence to not being able to function without chaos.  I have never been able to find an in-between.  As a creative person, a writer,  I’m not sure I want an in-between.  I find when there is darkness and chaos in my life, I do my best work.  That said, when there is pure silence I can be efficient, thorough and accurate.  Last Sunday I took a day of silence.  No music, no television, no verbal distractions.  The only sounds I heard were those around me, outside of me.   Birds singing, people on the belt-line, the sounds of distant traffic and my own breathing.  I don’t remember the last time I heard myself breath.   I’m too busy holding my breath in anticipation of what comes next.  Part of the reason I have a hard time with the silence is the freaky circus act that is constantly running my mind has to shut down, the rides need to stop, the freakshow takes a very long lunch break. When that happens I have to face reality, the grown up stuff, bills, responsibility, life. I prefer the vaudeville act, actually most artists do.  The thing is, I like to be able to eat, be entertained and pref not to be homeless, so, I decided to deal with what needs to be done.  The silence helped clear out some of the crap building up in my brain, clogging my creative arteries with plaque.  Once I accepted what had to be done, I was able to open the gates and write.  Welcome to the new tradition of Silent Sundays!

Since last Sunday’s reawakening I’ve been seeing things in my life without the rose coloured glasses, rather with 20-20 bionic vision.  I can see people clearly now.  I’ve also been having ‘Charlotte’ moments.  Anyone who is a fan of Sex and the City will get that reference.  Ok, ok!  I have a confession, this horror, sci-fi, martial arts movie fiend, independent feminist type,  who HATES the romantic comedies of today, (but is a sucker for anything prior to the 60’s),  loves Sex and the City.  For those who don’t know the show or movies, Charlotte is a very Pollyanna type, who believes in traditional love and romantic fairy-tales.  Charlotte will also blurt out random bits of wisdom, wisdom you would never expect from her.  Very…. level headed yet progressive in many ways.  I am the un-Charlotte. I don’t believe in romantic fairy-tales, I think love should be passionate and crazy, a journey, not this neat little package that is delivered with a bow to your door.  It should be about challenging each other, growing together, and knowing that when the shit hits the fan, you can both deal and will be there for each other.  I base love on how my parents have grown and survived their life together.  They’ve been together for 46 years and even though they have lived through moments of utter hell, are still crazy about each other.  That is what I want and something I said last night to a friend made it clear to me why I don’t have it and why I have been struggling in life as a whole.  Roadblocks.

Roadblock ahead!

We have been conditioned to believe that if there is a roadblock in life, you either figure out a way around it or break the roadblock down.  I am so busy trying to figure out how to do both that I never move forward in certain aspects of my life. An aspect such as love.  I am so busy trying to figure out how to make it work, how to fix it, how to reason, causing other things suffer.  I do this with my career too.  I should be going down road x but keep choosing road y.  STUBBORN!  Last night Cate and I were chatting about a personal issue I’m dealing with right now, one that I’ve grown weary of dealing with and have decided not to pursue any longer.  She asked why and I blurted out, ‘Too many roadblocks.’  I had one of those, stop, shake you head moments.  Too many roadblocks indeed. Roadblocks I am no longer going to deal with.  Right there and then, I made a promise to myself, when I see a roadblock, go the other way.  In my life I have to stop trying to get over them, around them.  Are these challenges put in front of me to better myself or make ‘life’ worth living or are they the universe telling me that there is nothing good on the other side, to turn around and head towards a clear, open road to something amazing.  I believe it’s the latter.  The universe and I are coming to a very firm and solid understanding, when it gives me messages, I’m going to start paying attention.  No more roadblocks for this girl.

The road ahead is clear, smooth driving down the route of life.

It’s too early for this…

Bizarre conversations that happen in the elevator of my building. {I need to start recording these and do a book} Ok.. this one wasn’t as bizarre as most, just one of the more skeezie ones. You had to be there and this requires a comic strip… wait a minute… that gives me an idea.

First off… I got in the elevator, pushed my floor… but it proceeded to go to the penthouse. Mr. MoMo get’s in, some other random guy I’ve never seen before gets in. Random guy keeps giving the skeezie up and down action with is eyes… well you get the picture.

Mr. Momo: Good Morning Beautiful.
Me: Good Morning Gorgeous, only one dog?
Mr. Momo: Hubs took the other two out. Turns to random guy, (who is holding bags) grocery shopping?
Random Guy: {looks me up and down} Going to buy meat and beer.
Me: {under my breath, but Mr. Momo heard it} Gross.
Mr. Momo: Meat?
Random Guy: Ya, am having a BBQ, you guys should come.
Mr. Momo: When are you having it?
Random Guy: Tonight, am buying a couple really big steaks. Red… you wanna come?
Me: {Rolls eyes} Sorry I don’t do BBQ’s. (I do, but this guy is sleazy)
Mr. Momo: Ah yes, you don’t eat meat.
Random Guy: She’s doesn’t eat meat?
Mr. Momo: She’s Vegan.
Random Guy: You don’t look Vegan.
Me: {shot him a look with lazer eyes} What’s that supposed to mean? {Normally at this point I actually explain to people that Vegan’s don’t just eat veggies and air, peoples perceptions are wrong, but I just wanted to get the hell out of the elevator}
Random Guy: You aren’t all skinny and starving looking.
Me: {sarcasm font} No I eat quite well, thx…
Mr. Momo: And she’s gorgeous.
Me: Thx Mr. Momo.
Random Guy: {as I’m getting off the elevator} and you have a nice ass.
{shiver} …

On a positive note… I apparently have a nice ass….

and you know my luck… every time I get on the elevator.. he’ll be there. UGG! Solution, I need to figure out how to afford to buy a house. It might mean having a roommate so I can afford to actually live… but am starting to reconsider this again…

Because I can… {responses below}

There really should be a special section of Craigslist for people like me… am in one of those moods (as in I may start drinking soon) and couldn’t help myself. Like my Zombie Girl dating ad I placed over a year ago, I’m taking bets on how many serious responses I get. Trust me… there will be someone out there who actually thinks this is for reals

… At least I made myself laugh for two minutes.

Here it is. I placed it in Missed Connections…

Wanna team up? – w4m
Date: 2011-08-17, 11:08AM EDT
Reply to:

You: 5’8″, handsome. Dark curly hair, haunting dark brown eyes. A smile that could end a million year war. You were wearing a white t-shirt, jeans, carrying a machete and a sawed off shot gun. You were covered in blood and Zombie bits.

Me: 5’8″, curvy. Red hair, part hair dye, part Zombie brain remnants. I was wearing a Smith’s t-shirt, rolled up jeans and boots, carrying a AK47 and a satchel of food.

Last seen: Bloor line, underground tunnel – somewhere between Spadina and Bathurst. I went east, you went west.

Let’s team up and fight these Zombies together. I’m almost out of bullets and have food. You look hungry and seem handy with that machete.

PostingID: 2551408975

/ps here is the link. Not sure how long it will stay live. Am sure it will get flagged soon as not being a real ad…


Responses Below

Thought i’d never hear from you again…food is scarce in these parts..
I might have grown a few inches since the last time we met, but i’m sure you’ll be able to recognize me.
I’m holed up in the west, in Etobicoke, have enough food for a few days more and then I must venture out or be too weak to keep up.

My machete stinks of rotting flesh and coupled with the cries and moans of the dead, it really is hard getting any rest at all. I can grab an AK off a dead soldier on my way to you, if he hasn’t ‘woken up’
already but I fear it might only slow me down. The machete is, after all, my weapon of choice.

next response

First of all; best post ever! Secondly, get out.of the tunnel quick. You can get quickly surrounded and outnumbered.