boo bextra

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riiighhhtt...well this explains a lot. shit on a stick. no wonder i feel super suicidal of late - I actually considered slitting my wrists last week...

well at least my messed up knee is a whole lot better?!?!?!!!

on a brighter note...

I feel alone, vacant, empty, unappreciated, terrified, trapped, unattractive, unsympathetic and sad.

I am tortured – living inside a house of dirt and of pain.

F...... limitations.

What happens when scripture, faith, and prayer doesn't provide comfort or solace? What then?

possible options include:
a) drink like a mofo
b) fly to another city to drink like a mofo
c) buy a disgusting amount of couture
d) get involved with an amazingly-handsome asshole

I'm so angry at my current situation that I can't even do the above 4 things properly to at least distract myself.

Recently, I have been struggling with the concept of limitations.
Why can't I become Vice-President of Marketing tomorrow?
Why can't I have better hearing?
Why aren't my knees stronger?
Why wasn't I born a sexy superhero?

F.... limitations. I'm so mad.

starvation central.

my fridge is so empty. i have nothing to eat at home. i'm sick of eating out. i'm too lazy to cooking or preparing food. i'm starving.

i'm just sitting in my chair staring at the kitchen - hoping that via osmosis, my body will be fed.

24 hours left before i'm back in boobie west village.

loneliness.

An interestingly simple word to represent a complex & difficult sentiment.

In the quiet moments, I used to think that I was lonely in Toronto just because I was away from my family and brothers.

But now that I'm back and living with my babee seester - relaxing with my brothers. I was shocked to realize this morning that I am still lonely.

And I recall that this sentiment still lingered when I was dating the love of my life when I was home with my family when I was in the busiest of cities when I was in the vastest of deserts when I was in my cubicle when I was in church.

Does this mean that we are all meant to be lonely for an eternity?

"Remain in me and I will remain in you" John 15:4

"I lift up my eyes to the hills, where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord - the Maker of heaven and earth." Psalms 121:1

One tiny thing before I go to church this morning....

Summer fun is over & cooler days are ahead which means - LEOPARD SKIN is BACK!!!

Retour au Québec.

Since I moved back to la belle province exactly 2 years to the day that I left for TO, the Québec government classifies me as a "Retour au Québec" person. (It's supposed to be a laissez-passer for all the bureaucracy and inefficiencies...NOT)

Because the summer fun is gone...time to get my life in order.

I realized as I tried to do things like get my license plates...that this is one hella inefficient province. Roads suck too! I think my vertebrae are all screwed up as a result of the bumpy rides to work...sigh!

So I ignore the inconveniences for as long as I can and then I escape.

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

Thought process:
My knee hurts. I feel like a drink. Whiskey? Wonder what R is up to...

At that very moment ~ (alert sound on msn)
R: hope you're there.
R: wanna go out for drinks?

Crickey! is that freaky timing!!!!!!!!!!

I'm sure his thought process was something like:
WHISKEY = Whiskey café = classy joint = need classy sophisticated hot gurrll = call m!

Message for R: sorry it didn't happen. Promise the next time I call it will be for you to have the honour of buying me drinks. You're the best off-season friend ever.

For the mammoth in me.

Ladies, don't you have days where you just feel like a whale? I feel like this enormous, big-shouldered, wide-butt, mammoth mutant beast these days.

I think it has something to do with the fact that girls here are always perfect size 2's. ARGH!

Anyways, this morning convinced that there isn't an uglier fat-ass than me, I went to work completely depressed.

Then my colleague told me that in a side-bar conversation Mr. C told everyone that he thought I was super beautiful in one of their monthly meetings. awww...

I think that was a message for the mammoth in me. So to celebrate the new-found self-confidence I ran home to inhale a mega-size bag of chezzies. AHHHHHHH!

Do blondes have more fun?

So I ran into my piano teacher’s son who informed me that he’s going to Italy to model and play music. He bought a one way ticket and he's just going there to fly by the seat of his pants.

That’s hot. (I am referring to his nomadic lifestyle and not the seat of his pants...though that's hot too)

Do blondes have more fun? Or am I just envious of the artist lifestyle.

I am a 100 years old (part deux).

I realize that I am indeed deserving of being called "old". Conversations of late are compulsively about interest rates & real-estate. My single obsession of late is the game of golf, live and breathe the sport.

In just a couple of years my woes have changed 180 degrees. I no longer worry about having nothing to wear because I can buy anything my little heart desires. There isn't much that intimidates me anymore - not even bitchy gurls. Instead, I focus my energy on - you know, building equity and stuff. yea...I have more in common with a 50 year-old father than a hip young person.

But in boring times such as these, I recall the most fantastic highlights. So far, I have not been disappointed. As much as I have been responsible and mature - I have been equally childish, foolish, and well - scandalous.

London - my bday: first time I ever experienced partying like a rock star - for real.

Montreal - formula 1 weekend: crazy bar-fight and random funnies.

New York - May 24 weekend: long live cubericans!!!! no more comments.

Chicago - DJ weekend: more hot latin times.

Shanghai - family: perfection.

Montreal - sisters reunited: hilarious - chaotic - hungry times. Between the two of us, we have 38 years of education - 48 years of life experience and yet neither of us cooks. shiet.

Food rant.

1. Why is it impossible to buy crème brûlés! Every bakery is sold out by the time I get there.

2. How come everytime I make soup, it takes on some weird nuclear colour?!?!!!

I am 100 years old.

Yesterday I found out that the guy known as the "old guy" in my foursome...is younger than me! hahahaha - cassé!

With every birthday, it seems that there are more who take offense to my aging. "You're old!!!", they exclaim with a mocking tone. Should I be insulted?

Frankly, I feel young and old at the same time. There are days I feel as innocent, clueless, energetic and rebellious as a teenager. And there are days I feel like I have the life experience and the wisdom of an 35 year-old.

Would I prefer to be mistaken for older or younger? I want to write something corny like "neither - I just want to be seen as myself" but honestly, I would rather be mistaken for older. I am too cynical and accomplished to be a day younger than what I am.

Plus if you think about it, cougars have it way better than little trophy wives. Not that I have a thing for younger dudes - but if I had to choose between a 20 year-old and a 45 year-old. You know my answer.

Lesson learned.

Last week I had this impulse to book a trip to NYC for me and my sister for some weekend in the near future. At the last minute, I decided against it since I've already been to NYC like 3 times in the past 10 months. I chose to be a little more fiscally responsible and to wait to evaluate the situation. Is it the wisest way to spend money?

Anyways - today I still felt like going to NYC so I looked on the net and saw that my hotel was booked solid and the most convenient flights are all booked up except for the very expensive first class tickets.

So I learned a very important lesson. Act on impulse - otherwise, an opportunity is missed.