Clean Your Own Damn Fridge

I told them i would stay until the 15th.

I lied.

I can't stay. I have to leave. I meant it when i typed in my resignation letter that i was done on the 28th. Today is the 28th and i am done. Kaput. I need out. Money is good, it pays all those bills and such, but it isn't worth this anymore. I like 20/20, but to work here i need to not be the perky slave who does the dishes. I am sick of being Cinderella. I am ready to manifest my Prince. And i am not just talking about Jordan.

Although, talking about Jordan (and i DO like to talk about him), we had our 3 month yesterday. Time flies when you are having life altering love affairs.

Ready to jump with me everyone into the great wonderful unknown once again?? Thursday i am going to sleep in and then i am going to find a piano and sing. I will let the panic wait a bit before i start calculating all the bills and missing all the paychecks. Focus on what i want, not on what i don't want. Believe that what i want is already mine. I am doing it, it is done. Perfect employment will fall into my lap. I am not sure what it will look like. But it will be perfect and i will be taken care of. Ease, joy and grace.

I cried yesterday for the first time in a long while. My heart was heavy - not helped by the fact that Saturday night i met Diane, Jordan's Ex, for the first time. She was actually not that nice. Jordan is just so sweet i assumed she would be, too. But she was kinda attitude-y, ya know, like a cool, cocky Saskatchewan bar dude. Made me want to give her a snarky attitude back and say something real nice and cuttingly mean - as i am good at doing when i get mad. But i didn't. I was flustered and hurting from all the sexual energy floating in between Jo and Her and i went into so-perky-that-it-is-obvious-that-she-is-feeling-powerless mode. Sheesh. Saturday night became a mess of emotion and numbing and feeling trapped. So Sunday i felt yucky. I didn't want to come back to work. I was flustered by the night before. And then i missed a rehearsal i totally forgot about and lost all my solos. AND AND then, i missed Jennie's phone call and experienced Jordan mad at me for the first time due to it all...

Overwhelmed, i cried. This morning i woke up and like a jungle tiger thought - i am getting out. So i came to work and took the bull by the horns. So much for another paycheque. I am moving up and moving on.

And unless i get a job soon, then beware to those who live close, because i could be moving in.

Irritate*v.(irritates, irritating, irritated) 1. make annoyed.

Have you ever wanted to drop kick a Powerbook into the Pacific ocean?

Have you ever specifically bitten off the nose and then the arms and the legs and finally the head of a gummy bear with a sort of twisted joy?

Have you ever stood in a - and i use this term loosely - dance class and silently wondered on what planet one snaps with the left hand when stepping out on the right?

Have you ever actually sat up, looked at your alarm clock and said straight to it - fuck off.

Have you ever looked at one of your bosses and laughed out loud in front of him to his face when he asked you if you could go get him a cup of coffee?

Have you ever waited for hours and hours and hours for a BC Ferry?

Have you ever had such secretive annoyances that you weren't even brave enough to add them to your most recent blog?

....................and yet there are all these wonderful happennings to remind me of how great life really is..........................

Jennie got word today that she is in fact being promoted to Vancouver May or June 1st. I am getting my Jennie back. That dream seems to be coming true.

I am gettting to have a pajama party with my old buddy Alain from high school. He is crashing at my apartment and i get him all to myself. This also reconfirms how much i love living in a one bedroom apartment.

I have a job interview. That has got to be good thing.

Friday night i am going on a date with myself. My boyfriend is going to the island with his crazy room mates. I could have gone, but when i weigh a night of unnegotiated movie watching and a sleep in my gorgeous fluffy bed against sitting in clouds of pot smoke on some remote island, sharing my Jo with a bunch of people i really don't know very well - i think i chose well. Anyway, Krista has been nagging me about neglect. This will be good for our relationship.

Free food from Kim Soo.

Days so busy that they go by fast fast fast. This is me looking at a silver lining.

Making love like teenagers in locations where getting caught is highly possible and incredibly fun.

Waking to an angel in your bed and knowing how much he loves you and wanting to run away with him

buy a magic cottage on some water

and have his babies.

Which reminds me, i should take my pill.

Metaphor

The Bay isn't a department store. It is freaky mirrored maze from which many may never return.

There is this strange phenomena in downtown cores of large cities where these underground mall tunnels connect one office tower to another. Sometimes an escalator will suck you upstairs into a larger mall area or, if you're really lucky, The Bay. This is where I was sucked into yesterday.

Which if fine, except that when it came time to leave, I couldn't find my way out. I didn't just want out, I wanted to go back to MY specific tunnel so that I could get to MY specific office tower.
I mean, I KNEW that somehow I had gotten IN, so it followed logically that I should be able to get OUT. If only life were that simple.

Around and around I walked. In circles. Literally. I knew I was on the right floor - men's apparel - but I still couldn't figure out where it was that had first walked in. Interestingly, I passed several sales people in my totally freaked out trek through boxer briefs and golf jackets, but I couldn't stop to ask them directions. Not because I was embarrassed or full of pride. But because what exactly would I ask them? "Hi. I was in a random tunnel connected to my generic office tower and then took an escalator onto this floor. Do you know how I can GET OUTTA THIS FREAKIN' STORE????!!!!!!!!!"

It doesn't help that they mirror the entire store to add to the illusion that it is the biggest department store in the world. This just added to my terror and kept reminding me that I had started to grow a big, ole' cold sore on my bottom lip that morning. Ug.

After the sixteenth time of passing Tommy Hilfiger, I decided I was hungry. So I veered off to an escalator that I knew existed and found a found court. This was bound to get me even more lost, but I figured if I was gonna be lost I may as well not be starving as well. With food in my belly, my determination grew strong. Wasn't I the same girl that had managed a multi-million dollar resort with no experience and a degree in tap dancing? Wasn't I the same woman who had sold everything she owned, moved across the country and started a brand new brilliant life? Wasn't I, after all, a MacLise - the highest form of superior intellect in the free world? I could get out of The Bay. I headed back to Gucci.

Suddenly it came to me. If I was sucked UP into the store then I just needed to locate any and all escalator going down that would have a corresponding 'up' attached to it. Once I found out where I had entered, I was certain there would be a logical solution to finding my exit. Back into the maze I started my hunt and, miracle of miracles, by focusing in on looking for down escalators I found my entrance point, right there by the cologne. With the sound of a heavenly choir singing, I slowly took a 180 degree view of all that was around the area and ..... and..... and....

There it was.

My escalator. Attached to MY generic tunnel attached to my freakin' office tower.

I fled like a prisoner from my penitentiary.

Vowing to never return.

Next time, i'm sticking to London Drugs.

The X Files

I saw Aidan last night for the first time since the breakup last April.

There he stood, so Aidan. Everything about him seemed so familiar and yet so many million miles away. There was the fleece jacket, there was the intense eye contact, there was the incredible smile, there was the storyteller complete with hand gestures. For me, ten months had not passed at all. He was the man i had loved once upon a time and he sat across from me at Our Town last night.

It was just that i didn't feel like Krista. Or not the Krista, at least, that he called partner a year ago. I sat across from him, eating this disgusting soup, and i enjoyed him afresh, with new eyes and with a new heart. Everything about my life is so different - my inner and my outer life. This Krista, the Krista that i am now, kept thinking...gee, this guy is a nice guy. But that was about it. Perhaps it was because we were not brave enough to connect on a truly vulnerable authentic level. Perhaps then much rage and saddness and frustration and love would have tumbled out onto our small cafe table. Or perhaps it is because we have grown - in my case infinite lengths - in different directions. I sit on my own wave now, the one i vowed i would create for myself. I am a different woman and this woman is no longer in love with that man. Perhaps? I am not sure.

The event truly was drama-less. That is not a complaint.

And maybe this is simply what letting go looks like.

After the meeting i went back to my wonderful apartment and snuggled under my blankets. I called Jordan, but he was busy and added little to the conversation past his tender "Hmmmm's" and "Yeah's". After getting off the phone i reminded myself that it isn't about these guys. It isn't about who i loved then and who i love now. I have been inside and outside connections with men all my life. I have tried to make their adoration of me what was real. But these men are human and have all been young and barely know how to love themselves properly. It isn't about them. It is about me and what i can do and who i can be when the men and the friends and the mothers and the audiences and the communities have all gone off to do their own thing.

I strive to find the balance between planting my own garden and still choosing to share that garden with a partner, every day, in between naps.

Plant Your Own Garden

After a while you learn the difference,
The Subtle difference,
Between holding a hand and
Chaining a soul.

You learn that love
Doesn't mean leaning and
Company doesn't mean security.

You begin to learn
That kisses aren't contracts and
Presents aren't promises.

You begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open,
With the grace of an adult,
Not the grief of a child.

You learn to build
All your roads on today
Because tomorrow's ground
Is too uncertain for plans.

After a while you learn
That even sunshine burns
If you get too much.

So you plant your own garden and
Decorate your own soul
Instead of waiting
For someone to bring you flowers.

You learn
That you really can endure.
That you really are strong.
You really do have worth.

You learn and you learn and you learn.
With every goodbye, you learn.

--Author Unknown

The Uncool Art of Enjoying Valentine's Day

I love Valentine's Day.

Yes, i know that it has been years since i was single on Valentine's Day and maybe that has something to do with it, but i truly think i would enjoy this day even if i was single.

To commemorate this Love Day, i would like to do a big brainstorming list of the things that i am presently loving about my life....

Only 2 or 3 more weeks left at this reception desk, jobs offers seem to keep cropping up, flavoured lubricant, logo design with one of vancouver's top designers, breakfast in the park, home looking at Deep Cove, patrick on his way to the brier, impromptu jazz bands in dessert bars, a march visit from mom, taco time date for valentine's day, love notes tucked into my bed, seeing brent david again with a wonderfully positive vibe, my new BC licence plates, the best pasta sauce i've had in years, being let off early from work just because, trips to victoria, chai lattes, chocolates from my boss, Jennie moving here soon, new library books, juicy orgasms, the sun, Andrew replacing the toner and JD helping me with the groceries, the use of my thumbs.

Recommit to the one you call your partner, act out in inappropriate showings of affection, phone the people who make you smile, treat yourself wonderfully and make lots of lists of the love in your life. It is there. It does exist.

Mmmmmwwwwwwaaaaaaaa!

Abracadabra

There is something very disconcerting about confronting your boyfriend in a rage and to have him react kinda like this:

"Oh my god, Krista. I completely understand why you are angry. Now that i think about it, i would be angry, too. I am so sorry. I want to learn from this and become the best partner possible for you and for us. Please forgive my insensitivity. I love you."

I mean, the anger rug gets tugged right out from under you!! Suddenly you can see so clearly the ways that YOU possibly let the partnership down and are inspired to dig down deep and love him with more purity than ever before. Suddenly, men don't seem like such scum after all.

Two other points i would like to make:

Kudos to Jennie's card and to the stranger that approached Jo and i at the Centre last Sunday. Both these people took the time to stop and acknowledge the connection between Jo and i, the happiness, the fact that a couple in the world seemed to be truly working. Usually we are met with people teasing us that we are 'making them nauseous' with our joy. And then, in the face of a world of people divorcing and struggling and lonely, you both feel guilty. So, thank you JennieG and the Kind Stranger for reminding us that giving the world an outward showing of love is NEVER a bad thing. There is no need for jealousy, because all of us deserve and are right around the corner from finding a spiritual, sacred partnership. There is so much time we spend mourning the ending ('shifting') of these joinings that if we want to see some real change perhaps we gotta start spending even MORE time celebrating them while they are in tact.

Now, when i see shmooshy couples on the street, i smile right at them as a silent way of saying thank you.

Also, last night at dance class Kevin J (the afore mentioned "Crush" of previous posts) told me that his bird and best friend Chump had died. You could tell his heart was broken and suddenly the crush and the letter and the silence and all the untalked-about stuff between us stepped aside and made room for some love. I liked Chump. He, like Kev and Iain and that apartment, symbolize one of the greatest, hardest, strangest summers of my life. The thought of Kevin coming home to find Chump drowned is a horrifying thought. Those two were best friends and no matter how i feel or felt about Kevin...i hate to think of him hurting and alone. In loss, KevJ and i connected in a dance class for about 2 minutes. And It was --- healing.

But connecting always is.

Connecting All Ways

Is.

Men Are Scum

When i was in Grade 4 i went into this MEN ARE SCUM phase. I am not sure where it came from, exactly, but there it was - doodled all over my nightstand, all over my binders, all over my diary. I was convinced, in my nine year old wisdom, that men were only out to do one thing - break our hearts. Considering my childhood's track record with the male role models in my life i suppose i shouldn't be all that shocked that this was my belief system from a very early age.

To avoid being treated poorly and having my proverbial heart pulverized i have gone out of my way to choose only the kindest, sweetest, most responsible men available to be my life partners. I have chosen the Sensitive New Age guy. I have been teased for my taste in the Straight-Gay men of the world. Yes, I have raised the bar high, i have worked hard at my independent woman routine so that i wouldn't ever really need much from them and i have set out to show the world that men were, in fact, selfless, giving nuturers - much like women - women with a penis attached.

But i am starting to wonder if i am just barking up the wrong tree.

I have watched as my signifigant others have woken up on a random day with the sudden urge to do a chore. Like saints they have attacked the laundry or the dusting or the bathroom. Then they have sat there, infinitly proud of themselves, waiting to be awarded their trophy. It doesn't occur to them that other the 97% of the chores have been done consistantly and quietly by - well - not them. Without need of a trophy. Thing is, we women are SO happy when the 3% pitch-in-and-help occurs that we do bring them their trophies...with kisses and hugs and accolades. Heaven forbid we stop, look at them and say, 'well done. now, keep that up for the next three months and we will start celebrating!'

Or the ditching us for those 'you-know-how-important-this-is-to-me' hobbies. Or asking you to remold your whole life to accomodate an incredible job offer....over and over and over again. We are terrified of being called high-maintenance. So we work with it. We find it in our hearts to be supportive when we are really feeling let down and abondoned. We move to North Carolina. We busily fill our empty weekends as he leaves for another band gig. We sit for hours on freeways driving to far away cities to visit him once a month so that his contract doesn't ruin the relationship.

We feed ourselves soup and shiver with a fever alone while he goes skiing in Whistler with the boys.

So, you will forgive me this morning if i revert back to my Grade 4 antics and say to the world, Men Can Be Scum.

I will follow that up with Women are Silly for Taking It.

And if i wasn't coughing so hard i would try to sum it all up with the Truth that lurks under it all:

that it is humiliating and heart breaking when you realize that you are reliving another pattern

and that you would, yet again, give more to this relationship...

than he may ever really be able to give.

The Profound Blonde Leaps Again

In one hour i will be sitting down with my boss and explaining that i will be resigning from this position as of Feb. 28th, 2005.

I will be doing this without any guarantee that the company will find me a more suited position. I will be doing this with the understanding that i could very well be going into March totally unemployed. I will be doing this without an already in place net. I will be doing this with blind faith that it will all work out perfectly.

I can not stay in this position. I know that. But i am nervous and anxious. I like these people and i like this company. I really like my boss. She treats me like gold. I sit here and everything is heightened. The silver spoon in the watery pink sugar milk from this morning's cereal seems surreally beautiful. The quietness under the regular sounds of the office is sooooo quiet. I am experiencing f.e.a.r. ----- feeling excited and ready. And a little nauseous.

********************************************************************************

Aaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnddddddddddd...i just quit. It was easy and non-painful and i love my boss. She just totally understood and offerred me a position that may be starting in August if nothing comes up before then...which is sweet. She also assurred me that while i look for other work 20/20 might be able to use me on a temporary basis off and on when the need arises. Again, so sweet. Already the Universe is taking care of me. I feel good. I would love for a brilliant opportunity to arise for me before August, but i know that what is perfect and right is unfolding before me without any help needed.

I also am back to thinking about school. Similiar thoughts to last summer. If i had a University degree i would go to Teacher's College in a snap. It is a general degree that i could use to specify in the Arts world and work my way up to teaching adults - who are what i want to teach. It also makes sense if i eventually want to run a Science of Mind Centre. AND i also think about Massage Therapy. I just know how damn good i would be at it, how i could use it to heal, to serve, to connect and to support financially my other dreams like running a Centre. It is just so expensive. As would be starting from scratch at University to get an Education degree.

Universe, if you could send me the funds for school that would allow me to learn new skills without incurring debt, i would be open to recieving them. Thank you. I know it is done. This or something better. And so it is.

Until then, i will try to enjoy my next two paycheques with a gusto.

Profound enough for ya?