And the gospel was Amazeballs

I love great lyrics and how I can just let my mind relax while listening to music and let it take me on a tour of my own thoughts. I feel almost detached from my 'self' which I feel contributes to why I think I am really, really funny. It’s one thing I have come to embrace about myself. I will always laugh out loud (not LOL, please stop with that) spontaneously, and perplexingly I imagine to those around me, as I had tried normally in the past to maintain a stone wall facade betwixt me and the chatty Cathy’s this world seems to be littered with. 
I actually don’t mind whatever it is that compels people to make random conversation with me happen. It’s actually always an interesting story to tell. 
Really Randy, your mom didn’t deliver a package to you from your friend from out of town and your family doesn’t appreciate all you do? Phew, I’m glad I was at this bus shelter in a downpour so I’d have no where to go to. So Randy, I am assuming, due to our previous one-sided conversation as well as where in the Downtown Eastside we're standing, we’re talking about drugs right? (Judgey Wudgey! You know everything, do you?) 
Although, with the variety and lack of cohesiveness to anything previously pontificated on by you - you see my bright pink ear phones right? Don’t worry, I just like to have sound tracks to the monologues that need to orated in the voracious streets of Vancouver. What? Oh, you’re right I had stopped listening, but if you could only hear what was happening in my head you would totally agree it’s a more fun station to tune into. Back to you, you’re occasionally possessing of a certain perspicuity. I’ll keep that in mind and go back to the 'I’m listening' stare while keeping up the nodding and the raising of eyebrows. That means ‘Really, interesting notion’ in my world. Sigh, I am not being kind. I really should be nicer to people. You’re telling me about another done-you-wrong instance and you look to me for a response. 'That’s an interesting move,' I say, not wanting to encourage you while debating in my mind what does it hurt to chat civilly with the man? Then my other brain says it hurts the quality time with you, that you like and are entitled to have and I do my best thinking while walking to iPod on random. However, Randy, you probably just need an ear for 10 minutes and it will improve your day to have had someone listening. Except I’m not - back to you. Oh and the bus! Randy have a great evening, bye bye! 
I realize now that this scenario playing out thousands of times,  I was clinging to having no connection to those around me. That making fun of (in my crueler moments) to gently joking around, were to further me from you. I get now how limiting that is. Why wouldn't I want people to feel connected? Why would I limit opportunity to learn, experience, share? This stems from the fact that I have limited love in and out since I have barnacled to the theory that it is better to have never loved and never lost than to ever have loved at all. Crazytown. (thanks Mumma, for this face and open body language you have instilled in me that causes me to project a safe harbour aura to those around me)

I subscribe to Yoko Ono on Twitter and she posted a link to her installation, "Half-a-Room" and what she had to say about it really hit me between the eyes,


"What happened was that before I met John I was married to this person and we were not getting along too well. And one morning, I woke up and I saw that the other side of the bed was empty. Obviously, he did not come back at night. So, it's a very interesting thing ... that "half-empty" idea. So it's like half the bed is not there. Then I thought, OK, I should make all these objects that are half and the other half is not there. It's a symbolic thing in a way, and again there are many layers of interpretation that I immediately noticed and I loved. I told John about this "half" idea, and he immediately said, "Why don't you put the other half in bottles -- like, you know, in Alice in Wonderland?" I thought it was a great idea. His half was exhibited in a recent gallery show with my "Half a Room," but very sedately, in a back room. ... The very strange thing is, just like this "Half a Room" thing, my artwork affected my life and my life affected my artwork. I left the other half open and John filled it up. It's very symbolically interesting."


What am I creating space for? What is in my space? What do I want in there?

I love indie lists especially when they have a mix of things I recognize and like so I know that at least 50% should be gems. The deleting and weeding of iTunes is such a poke in the brown eye though. I should be drinking giants amounts of hot tea since I think a cold is at 8% in my body. More raw garlic. Ugh, uncomfortable heart squeeze. I wonder if it’s a vestige of my childhood heart murmur that I get that squeezy feeling around my heart. Or a mild heart attack. Imagine if I had them all the time and never knew? I’m pretty confident that would make me a good candidate for being the first bionic woman - logic behind this and subsequent logistics to be arranged at a later date. No, but I seriously need tea. I really love living alone - I do want to be living with a lover at some point, in the next 2yrs let’s say, but there needs to be a bit of time-shariness to our place. There is a different way you experience a space when you know you are the only one making the door open and close and that when you have that satifying mini-thud of a dead bolt sliding home, there’s sanctum. Except Moubebe, she doesn't count since she is cool wth me running the palce the way I want it - 60% of my actions being the cause of her her cushy life. If there are do-overs I want the next life to be pampered house cat. With a stoner chef. Also, cloning. I'd have several copies of Mouey do. In addition to others animals, obviously. 

I really enjoy the quote by Albert Camus ‘It was only in the depth of my winter that I realized within me lay an invincible summer’ I am INVINCIBLE!! Looking around my pad, that quote is on my fridge, I’ve grown so comfortable with the various skulls around my house I wonder if seeing a real one would no longer bother me? It is only the meaning I put on it after all. 

I love my piece of art “Bears and Berries” by Corrine Hunt. 

I got it for being an embodiment of the theme of a particular afternoon dedicated to Friends Helping Friends. Hey friends, keep repeating to yourself, Love only gets bigger if it is shared. And it is limitless. Until your cynical heart gets it. Might take a while, mine did. 

My beautiful art piece reminds me of the lovely, whole sunny, warm day moseying with Yuri that preceded it (Nice ‘hat’ Yuri! :) - you had to be there) and then the award for best representing the day and then the beach later on and the syrupy happiness that cocoons me for a few minutes of blissful recall. 

I want a beautiful flapper outfit and somewhere to wear it. I want feathers, and cute pumps, swishing long jet beaded necklaces and bright red lipstick. I want to drink absinthe and end up on a lounge chair on a beach, shoes kicked off. I also want a gorgeous man to carry me back to my bed for a snooze and a snog once I have waxed poetical about the sky to the soothing sounds of waves at low tide. 

Something else that is changing - I have felt as if I was on a (created only in my brainsicle) teeter-totter and pulled to either extreme with an unsettled feeling in my stomach as I heave myself from leaning too far either way. I don’t necessarily try and achieve balance though, as part of me likes the striving for sure-footedness, the goal of equilibrium, as part of me yearns to explore what comes from trying that out. The tiny little question mark of asking, 'Why do I fear the balance? What makes me think that that will be boring instead of just another way to (mentally) roll out?' That's right, friends! This flower is opening to everything. 

I wish I had a cup thermometer to a) figure out what my favourite 5 deg range of warmth is for tea drinking and b) always drink it that way. I'd also use it in the bathtub. With Epsom salts and lavender oil. 

Here's a tip from me to you, wisdom - Try saying HOORAY!! a couple times in your day. I promise it will change the scope of unbridled joy. Also, I simply cannot hammer home the point enough that high fives - integral to feeling JAZZED. Don't be scurred. Feeling jazzed is sublime. 

a haiku:

What is love, Baby?
Celebrate feeling sublime
Sparkles in the air

xo