newsflash update!

1) it’s canada day
2) many people on my facebook page are griping about it not falling on the weekend
3) i have just been informed that i am a bitch! mr. x wanted me to know that i have always and consistently been a bitch to him. and that i don’t realize it, but i am truly a bitch.

i agree. but! he totally warrants the behaviors i exhibit and i can see how he might think how he does.

case study a

a few days ago tina came over. she brought over 4 bottles of beverage. we sent mr. x out to get us 4 more. tina had 3, i had 4. she left. there was 1 left. so, i thought i would have it. mr. x is in the bathroom brushing his teeth and i pop the cap off. toothbrushing sounds stop immediately. he spits. ‘did you open ANOTHER ONE?!’

i said ‘why, are you writing a book?’

silence.

he’s all confused so he’s like ‘a book??? a book on what?’

i said quite bitchily ‘a book on what i’ve been doing this past minute or so’

he didn’t answer me. i didn’t answer him. like seriously, what’s it to him? does he have to stop brushing his teeth just so he can know for sure that the noise he heard is what he thinks it is? does it matter?

anyway. i get up this morning and the patio door has been left open all night. mr. x is sleeping on the couch out there nowadays. i was letting him sleep in here as long as he stayed on his side of the bed and behaved himself. he didn’t stay on his side of the bed, he likes to go diagonal when he sleeps, i think he’s trying to align himself with the north pole or something. the head of MY bed faces due west. ‘anyway’ he was a total inconvenience in the mornings when i’m up and wanting to be on the computer. he was like ‘no no i don’t mind’ but i sure did. he would comment on what i was surfing. it’s fucking worse than someone reading over your shoulder. PLUS it is pretty rich behavior for him. he is mr. twitchy on his puter, closing window after window after window when someone approaches. i want to tell him to not bother. we are divorced! he’s allowed! i guess that old habits die hard, because that is what he was like through our whole entire relationship as a couple. mr. twitchy covering his philandering tracks. so stupid! i can’t imagine it being a good time. if it caused me stress, it caused him much more. gah!

anyway so this morning i am up and getting ready for my morning walk. i say to mminipenny ‘i am going for a walk, sort your breakfast out’

and from the couch i hear mr. x ask me if i’m going for a walk

i march over and say ‘why do you ask?’

he says ‘well i heard you say that you were going for a walk’

so i’m like ‘well then why ask me?’

he does it all the time, and i don’t know why it hasn’t clicked yet that it annoys me. like i’ll be washing dishes, which is a unique, unmistakable sound. he’ll ask from across the house if i’m washing dishes. i’ve given every terse, smartarse answer i can think of and he’s still not cluing in.

‘no i’m washing the cat’
‘no, i’m taking a bath’
‘yes i am’ (ok that’s the one i use the most, not bitchy at all, is it?)
*exasperated sigh* ‘yes what do you think i’m doing?’

every thing i do, he has to ask the obvious, even though my actions are patently obvious. am i doing laundry? was i just on the phone to trent? did i just open a can of pepsi?

you know it’s just not natural to be living with the ex. i will never get over the fact that the man i truly loved was… not my true love. i wasted a lot of years trying to get my head around having such a handsome and funny guy as my husband. and we did get on so good, but he had this problem!! with phone chats and internet chats with other women!! excuse me while i resent all hundreds of them!!

meanwhile there goes the best dating years of my life lol. i can’t really do it now, i tried a bit but it’s just too…

i just…

i guess i’m really just an unpleasant person who can’t get on with many people. especially my ex husband. i wonder what to do next! he’s just as trapped as i am. unless he sells his motorcycle (that he hasn’t driven yet) the dude has no money. none. zilch, zip, zero. he can’t be renting a place PLUS giving me child support. i haven’t made him pay the paltry amount a month yet cos he pays half the rent and half the bills (sometimes). but if he goes i will certainly need it!!! he’s lucky, because at the time of separation i was making good money and he was making none, so when they did the math it really worked out in his favor. even if he does become a millionaire (something i will never discount, because he is always dreaming about it and just dying to think about the get rich quick scheme that will get him there) i can never ask him for more than what we signed off on. oh well. it is just another lesson in life. well, it’s the same one i get over and over again: i’m on my own. and i better get used to it, and i better be prepared for all kinds of emergencies. and i got to be extra strong.

i’m sorry if i’m a bitch because of it.

oh yeah and about my general fitness

yeah it’s ok like i feel ok i’m really getting the hang of walking properly (seriously) and my leg strength is very good and my lungs are clearing out and my stretching is getting more serious and soon i will be rolfed and i can get a major aligning of the important meridians of my body and VERY SOUL as well as a side effect. lol i say this because i’ve had some very serious, spiritual and physical things happen to me doing yoga. i am able to let go of a lot of baggage by releasing the tension built up from certain experiences. and duh when the physical tension goes it’s the best way forward to washing all that past stuff away. the further away the better. anyway lately i’ve been walking but i always walk, i needed to push myself more. so more and more i’m not happy unless i come back sweating, which is something i hate to do, even if i’m having fun doing it. it’s just that my nose sweats more than anywhere else and i’m always self conscious about it. more so than i would be if it was my pits, where lots of people sweat from. armpit circles are fine but big droplets always going off on my nose? it’s something that people zoom in on, and i hate it. i don’t mind these days, sweating so much because it is a wonderful release that i’ve been denying myself all these years, it’s not like i don’t drink enough water. lately i don’t really hang out with anyone and i don’t want to. so i sweat and hibernate and generally feel great. except for that last week when i felt like total shit. but i’m back up and sweating like a beast these past couple of days so i’m like ’schvinefloo, what?’

different flowers

i am so dark brown. i don’t like to be this brown, but i must be out in the sun. i need a parasol. i can’t tolerate sunscreen. my skin is so sun friendly. if it was unhappy with the sun it wouldn’t be squirting out melanin happily and freely. copiously and liberally. if it didn’t know what to do with the sun it wouldn’t react so quickly and absolutely. it is only a couple of shades off of the darkest parts of me.

do you know when i was 18 i went to mexico with my brother and i was out there in the sun all day every day for days and days and days and i didn’t even watch myself turn dark until the last day when i was getting into a bathing suit and as i was hoiking the strap up my forearm was next to the nipular area and THEY WERE THE SAME COLOR and i was like what the m.f. HELL!!! and then i took a good look at my FACE and it was two m&m eyes peeking out of a cocoa colored husk. really shocking. i almost didn’t recognize myself.

when i got back high school can you believe i took a WHOLE EXTRA YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL. extra!!! just to firm up my grades. so i could FOR SURE get into UNI pah and all i got out of uni was, among other things… a damaged liver and a permanent predisposition for plaid! which i blame on the zeitgeist of that time, rather than schooling… hee hee hee ok so i got back to HIGH SCHOOL and like my friend Petula (who i have an ok story about) was like holy shit girl you look like a fucking PAKI!!! and i was all like screw you man lol. serious lol’s she was a scream, that petula. it was funny because petula is from exactly that neck of the woods. pakistan, but she was totally canadian.. but her mother was 100% old school. i’d elaborate but…. that whole statute of limitations covers her entirely so yeah.

what’s the statute of limitations in canada? i shouldn’t tell you my petula stories until i find out, i assure you they were the pettiest of crimes but hey…. i should just keep my trap shut hahaha

anyway my other petula story which is fit to print is the time when she added my friend trent to her facebook. he accepted because he sees a box ‘joanne is also her friend’ and he’s like well hmmm. maybe it will come to me later. it didn’t. anyway all the while she’s sending him these invites to all these apps and i’m getting like NO invites. she still sends him stuff from time to time, but me never. lol. she has never met the man in her life ever ever ever. uh, the end.

i went for a walk today. it was really nice to get out

do you see him? if you do, leave a comment.

do you remember when everyone had ashtrays?

i do. i remember smoking in a movie theater, too! i also have a false memory of walking around safeway with my mom. i was looking up at her and she was walking down the aisles, smoking. i asked her about this the other year and she was appalled. she said that she was never one to just stroll around smoking!! she only did it in her car or in the privacy of her own home.

anyway. from about the age of 8 or 9 my mother also had me training in the domestic arts. every saturday morning. soon it was a routine that i memorized and learned to do very quickly and efficiently, because when i was done the chores i was set free to play (like all the other children had been doing since, say… 8am?) so first i had to change all the sheets on all the beds. mine, my parents and my three brothers. all the sheets went into the washing machine. by the time i’d gone and put fresh sheets on the bed, the wash cycle was done so i’d put the sheets in to dry and i’d put on another load of clothes to wash. there would be a pile of stuff just there and ready to go (thanks, mom!). then it was dusting and there were lots of knickknacks and such to lift up and go under. then it was ashtray time. i would go around the house and collect all the ashtrays and wash them. we had a lot of ashtrays. you know. just everywhere so that there was always one handy. i loved washing them and holding the glass ones up to the light. all standing at the kitchen sink throwing patterns of light onto the ceiling and walls. disco times! well adult easy listening times. the radio went on in the morning and got turned off at night and we either listened to the country channel or the adult easy listening channel.

‘midnight at the oasis….send your camel to bed….’

one ashtray was a deep olive glass with round knobules going around the lip. you put your smoke in between any of the knobules.

‘do you like pina coladas? and getting caught in the rain?’

one of them was a deep amber that threw brilliant triangles of yellow all over the place. it was cut sharp, and there were a few semi-circles cut into the lip. that is where cigarettes went.

there were a lot of small white ones, like you’d see in a bar (dad? lifting ashtrays from the bar again? hmm? lol! kidding!) but i didn’t play with them.

there were a couple that were ceramic and glazed over with soothing designs. one of them reminded me of the iris of the eye, but brilliant red and rimmed with a mellow, chocolatey brown. the soft grooves to put cigarettes in were not on the lip, but on a sassy little ridge that went across the ashtray like a spine. a chocolate spine.

there was one ashtray, round and black glass, like a steering wheel, very boring. when you held it up to the light, it was bright red. i liked it, and i didn’t like it.

did you know? that i started smoking cigarettes? when i was 9? it wasn’t until i was 11 or so that i started to raid the ashtrays for long cigarette ends left by my parents (who were both prolific smokers WOW they smoked tons. my mom quit but my dad still smokes but not as much. my brother who is closest in age to me still smokes. the older two brothers never ever even started. ever.) when i was 12 and up i still took the long ends (my brother and i were both always on the lookout for them, actually but since i did the cleaning it was me who got most of them) but by then i’d graduated to also sneaking the odd smoke out of my parent’s packs which they always left around. i can’t believe they didn’t notice! especially with two of us doing it lol.

one thing that always pissed me off was that my brother was allowed to smoke in the house from age 16 or so but i was 18 before i was allowed to smoke in front of them, even though everyone in the place knew for a fact that i’d been smoking since like, preteen days. if i had a dollar for every time i was BEAT for SMOKING, or POSSESSING CIGARETTES or STEALING MONEY FROM MY MOM’S PURSE TO BUY SMOKES, or STEALING SMOKES or SMELLING LIKE SMOKE well

i’d be a very wealthy girl!! wouldn’t i?

the latest balcony escapades…before it ALL went black!

and now, a peaceful interlude. you are not seeing double! well you ‘are’… but…

i drank a whole litre of room temperature unsweetened cranberry juice today

i’ve spent the better part of a week in bed but not ‘in the good way’. anyway i was eating garlic for awhile but mr. x says i don’t smell like i’ve been eating garlic for days. i wonder if he’s sick, too. like as in he can’t smell? although? i have been absolutely hermitlike, all lying in my bed, half asleep, half awake, door shut, window open, music on, the days passing like dreams that i fall in and out of. conversations with trent, random laughing fits. today it was wimbledon and andy murray. trent says he is so ugly he looks ‘like a claymation doll that they didn’t bother finishing’.

roger federer is a hero of mine. i wonder if his impending baby is going to be a boy or girl? lol did you see his bling bling rapper style bag? a har har. i’m not overly impressed with his logo, although it’s simple and clean like his game! the man is a machine! it’s rare you’d see him being as big a crybaby as that andy murray is. federer is a machine. a tennis machine. it’s a shame nadal isn’t fit enough to defend his title. maybe next year?

i don’t want to be that sad case

of ’she never changed anything’

so…

i’m gonna change some stuff.