Dear Roommates

Dear Roommates,

     How are you? I should know this, considering we live together, but to be honest, I really don't care. The two of you are international students and have moved in way after I did. I get it, I'm not your favourite person. I don't want to interact with you simply because we all don't have a lot in common, including our schedules. I'm out most days and most evenings/nights, just how it is, and when I come home, I really just need to spend some time with Shani. You know her, right?

     When I come home to spend Shani time, I do not want to come home and spend Shani time in a smelly house. That's not a lot to ask. Your garbage has to be thrown pretty much immediately if it's smelly; it is NOT to be left in the kitchen for longer than a period of a couple hours or outside the front door, considering the garbage can is about 5 feet from the front door. Stop making me out to be a bitch for asking this. This is a reasonable request. I have thrown your garbage out countless times in the past few weeks, which is unfair as it's not even mine. I keep MY dirty stuff in my room so it doesn't bother anybody else, and asking you to do the same isn't unreasonable, it's a requirement.

      Secondly, I do not have to prove to you that I clean the house. It's simple, clean up after yourself. Shower? Make sure the drain's free of all hair. Wash your face? Make sure you haven't sprayed water all over the counter. Cook? Wash all dishes within 24 hours, keep the window open, wipe down counters after you're done. It's NOT that hard.

      Not to mention, I do all of the outside work. One of you claims to have a hurt shoulder and the shovel being too big for you (hah!) and the other sprained her ankles MONTHS ago. If you can walk to the university, you can shovel a bit of snow. But no, I come home after a long day's work, shovel (which normally I enjoy but I'm coming to resent it because it's expected of me, and we've had about 5 feet of snow this year), and then I come home to a smelly house and have to throw out garbage that doesn't belong to me just so I can stand being in the living room? Who do you think you are?

     And when I confront you about my frustrations, I'm somehow the BITCH? You say you're frustrated with me but won't tell me why....because "you're not like that". Well then I can't change what I don't know. I had to fight for one cupboard, I have the smallest rack in the fridge, I keep my dishes in one pile while the rest of the dish cupboard is full of your guys' dishes. There are over 14 cupboards in our house.....and I have 1.25?

     I often think of moving but my house is in the most ideal location and our landlords are extremely wonderful. I am not going to move. I have told them about our friction and I hope when it comes down to it, and if it's you guys or me, I hope they choose my side. I have made no unreasonable requests. This is MY home and I'm allowed to have people over IN my room and watch hockey on tv.

Sincerely,

Shani

Hair Flow

Five, or even two years ago, if you told me I'd be taking pictures in corsets, I'd have laughed because I could tell you how horribly they would have turned out. I am not and never have been very photogenic. But here I am, 200 shots later, not giving a ship about anything anymore, standing in front of a fan while he photographed me.

I learned that corsets create fat pouches where there are none, and that it's not really attractive. I also look really stupid half the time with my mouth half open.

But here are some of the good shots, cropped, of course, to maintain dignity.

You'll do things you never thought you would.

All of these belong to Lucas Arundel.

Long Term

On this they were in agreement:
everything that can happen between two people
happens after a while

or has been thought about so hard
there's almost no difference
between desire and deed.

Each day they stayed together, therefore,
was a day of forgiveness, tacit,
no reason to say the words.

It was easy to forgive, so much harder
to be forgiven. The forgiven had to agree
to eat dust in the house of the noble

and both knew this couldn't go on for long.
The forgiven would need to rise;
the forgiver need to remember the cruelty

in being correct.
Which is why, except in crises,
they spoke about the garden,

what happened at work,
the little ailments and aches
their familiar bodies separately felt.

Stephen Dunn

India and Buses

Did you know the bus smelled like India?

The scent of jasmines and roses

intertwined,

a whiff here

and a whiff there,

crowning women both young and old.

When you're poor, the gift

of a single wild rose

is enough to make you weep.

The bus, it smelled like India,

the place where my parents grew up,

my mom especially.

Old books, the covers yellowed

and wrinkled,

the musty dust rising out

speaking of the ages of old

when kids ran around and threw pebbles

in the well

and beauty was a thing that existed outside

as mirrors were hard to come by.

I missed India, on that bus,

on that bus in snowy Saskatoon.

I let my imagination run from one end to another,

and promptly forgot all about it

as I stepped outside into the sun

trying not to slip on the ice,

as the doors of the bus brushed my neck behind me.

Little Truths Don’t Lie: A Conversation

*I wrote this...conversation way back, in 2010, as result of an exercise given to us in Bob's class. A recent blog post of a friend of mine reminded me of it, and I thought I may as well share it here (link to the post: http://criccraz11.blogspot.ca/2013/02/conversation-by-creek.html). I wanted to use the least amount of stage direction possible, leaving it up to the interpretation of the audience who the two people are and what they want in life, provided they're seeking something.*


[Two strangers: one sitting, one standing.]

Stranger 1: Nice day out.

Stranger 2: It’s always a nice day out.

Stranger 1: You think? Always? Without fail?

Stranger 2: Well it’s always a nice day. Truth is truth. Our perception of whether it is a nice day or not changes. That’s our fault.

Stranger 1: Never thought of that, but I guess you’re right. At least about the last part. Let’s start again – hello, I think it’s a nice day outside. How about you?

Stranger 2: You’re not bad kid. You’ve got some snark in you. I think it’s a nice day out too.

Stranger 1: Kid?

Stranger 2: Don’t take it personally, just a colloquial term. Could be affectionate.

Stranger 1: Affection? Towards me?

Stranger 2: It was a moment – I feel weak. It’ll pass. Plus you took what I said out of context.

Stranger 1: Doesn’t everybody? Not you personally, but people hear what they want to hear. Nobody listens.

Stranger 2: Because no one cares.

Stranger 1: You make me talk a lot.

Stranger 2: That’s neither here nor there.

Stranger 1: You aren’t either.

[silence]

Stranger 1: What do you do when you’re gone?

Stranger 2: I’m right here at this bus stop.

Stranger 1: Not in your head.

Stranger 2: True. I’m never in my head.

Stranger 1: So where do you go when you’re gone?

Stranger 2: Far away from here.

Stranger 1: Can I join you?

Stranger 2: Perhaps. How far can you fly?

Stranger 1: [laughs] That response was neither here nor there.

Stranger 2: Well you asked me a rather personal question. I just wanted to gauge your commitment  level before diving deep into some philosophical discussion about the meaninglessness of the grand gestures of life and how in reality it is the small things in life that pluck relentlessly away at our heartstrings.

Stranger 1: Was that what you were thinking of?

Stranger 2: No, I was thinking of beer.

Stranger 1: I like beer.

Stranger 2: Me too.

[silence]

Stranger 1: You really think the big things in life are small?

Stranger 2: What does it matter what I think?

Stranger 1: It shouldn’t.

Stranger 2: But it does?

Stranger 1: I suppose. I like you.

Stranger 2: Well if that didn’t make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. I need a camera to record this moment: the moment that you fell in love with me.

Stranger 1: If, if that was the case, it would have been when I first realized that you were wearing white socks.

Stranger 2: That’s neither here nor there.

Stranger 1: I don’t like mismatched socks. It seems to be the trend nowadays. It makes me feel uneasy, as if the world is slightly shifted out of focus. Pardon my language, but it’s a bit of a head fuck.

Stranger 2: Brain sex is always fun.

Stranger 1: Yeah, but brain rapeage without being under the influence isn’t.

Stranger 2: I suppose.

[Old man and old woman holding hands slowly trudge by. Old man carries a big umbrella, old woman carries a purse.]

Stranger 2: Think we’ve forgotten our roots?

Stranger 1: I think we don’t want to be happy anymore.

Stranger 2: What are we looking for then, if not happiness?

Stranger 1: I think we’ve forgotten what we’re looking for. Yes, that does mean we’ve forgotten our roots. We live for nothing but the future, but we think we’re living in the present. We live in the hope that tomorrow will be better but we don’t do anything about accomplishing it today, except worry.

Stranger 2: Have you lost faith in humanity?

Stranger 1: Haven’t you?

Stranger 2: I believe people are good inherently, just choose not to be.

Stranger 1: Hobbes and Locke.

Stranger 2: Talk is useless anyway. Not that I do much else.

Stranger 1: What do you want to do?

Stranger 2: Matter.

Stranger 1: And do you think you do?

Stranger 2: At times. It’s hard to tell. People are fickle. Although in my experience, computers are way higher on the fickle food chain.

[silence]

Stranger 1: So how many times have you been let down?

Stranger 2: No more than the average.

Stranger 1: So a lot, then.

Stranger 2: If you say so.

[Bus is heard in the distance.]

Stranger 1: That’s my bus.

Stranger 2: It’s not mine.

Stranger 1: Think we’ll meet again?

Stranger 2: In a different life, maybe. It’s been nice though.

Stranger 1: In another life then.

[Bus stops. Stranger 1 boards the bus, sits down. The bus screeches to a halt. Confusion abounds. The bus is evacuated; someone has walked out in front of it.]

My Sister Singing

If you have something nice to say, please comment on the video :)

She doesn't know I'm doing this. I want to surprise her.

Lots of love!

VDay

He gave me a plant,

not a bouquet.

I think he's here to stay.

First set of flowers I've ever received in my life.

Undecided

Your mother & I didn't know what
to get you for a present, Father said.
We kept asking you, but you wouldn't
tell us. So we got what's good
for all occasions—a shirt. But since
we've given you that for your last three birthdays
we were hoping to give you something different.
We were thinking of just giving you cash,
but that'd have been too impersonal. Plus,
you might have saved it & not spent it.
This way even if you don't wear them we might
still get some use out of them. If you suddenly
started accusing us of never getting you anything
we could open your drawer & show you the shirts.
Just because you don't wear them doesn't negate our intent.

Hal Sirowitz

Girls get Diarrhea Too!

A little sexist, the title, no?

a) After antibiotics after the wisdom teeth extraction, my intestinal flora were shot.
b) I had straight diarrhea, 6-7 times a day for a week. It sucked. Majorly.
c) It got better, and then I got a UTI (WHAT THE HECK BODY? AFTER ANTIBIOTICS COMES YEAST INFECTION, NOT A BACTERIAL INFECTION!!!) and went on more antibiotics. GI didn't hate it but didn't love it.

d) It hurts to pewp. ACID, man, acid.

e) Why is this embarrassing? I can't tell Dan this. I just told him I was pukey. Hah. No. MY BUM FEELS LIKE A BABY'S DOES WHEN IT GETS A DIAPER RASH. I'm in pain. I can't even keep roasted vegetable soup in. Just tea I guess it is.

Girls pewp. And sometimes the pewp hurts.

Letter's Difference

Do you remember?
It was three years ago today,

three years ago that we first touched minds

and souls.

Do you remember how nonchalant the first conversation was,

about sandwiches and music,

you told me about the Pogues and I had no idea

that I was going to fall in love with the

best and worst person in my life,

but I knew something big just had happened.

If I could go back to three years ago today,

I would rather never have met you

for you made me lose more than love,

and although it's only a letter's difference

it made the universe change from glad to sad,

because sometimes even one or two misplaced letters

can cause the apple to fall far from tree,

and Adam and Eve, in the haze of their love

would never have noticed it

and gone on and spent eternity in the bliss of ignorance.

sni bong

I wanna love him.

Beyonce and Other Beautiful Women

Watching the Superbowl with Dan and his roommate was a strange experience.

I don't really watch football, but football watches me! The Roughriders are a huge part of Saskatchewan culture so I had to learn fast to wear green and know names (at least three :P) and to learn the basics of a football match. I still don't get most of it, but I can understand the basics. I won't go out of my way to watch it, but I mean, the game last night was intense and I found myself cheering as much as the other guys.

The half-time show was something else, and when Beyonce came on, let me tell you the boys turned on as well. And I mean, I never saw Beyonce that way, as an objectively beautiful woman, because that's just not how I evaluate people. I don't know what's good or not good, what a nice pair of legs or breasts look like. Abs don't really turn me on and I don't notice biceps and triceps or forceps in anybody.

Yeah, that's her alright.

But there I was, right up against Dan, now seeing this objective desirable siren doing her thing, and realising that I'd never be her. I'd never have those legs or that body or those eyes or that voice, I'd never be on stage in a little leather something or the other dancing around like a rage princess in 5 inch heels. And I don't know why it bothered me.


Maybe because I couldn't be physically perfect. Even if I lost all the weight and toned myself into oblivion, I still would have keloidal scarring all over my back and arms.

Or maybe it bothered me more that I didn't care about that physical perfection. That it meant nothing to me. But I wondered if Dan ever wished I was more like her? And I think that's what got to me?

I'm not exactly what you call insecure, given what I have to work with. But perhaps it's a natural emotion for girls in relationships, to wonder how often their boys' eyes wander.

I'm doing a photoshoot soon, possibly Saturday. It's a hair photoshoot and I have hair so 2+2=photos. I'll be wearing a corset, bare shouldered, and Luke is aware of what I have going on. I'm curious if he'll photoshop them out or not, the scars that is. Hopefully my hair will stay straight (it's supposed to be straight).

Nervous!