monday morning

i overslept by about an hour, but that’s okay because my mind and body totally needed the extra rest.

outside, sunny skies and crisp temperatures. the morning hum well underway.

i quickly got dressed, slid into my tevas and headed out. no time for breakfast yet; first-thing-in-the-morning power-walks on days like today are always fantastic, so the sooner i hit the sidewalks the better.

pause. deep breath. cool breeze. fall in the air. wasps circling the pavement. menacingly, because they’re evil. step carefully.

i chose the shady side of the street, the cityscape laid out before me in the distance. a perfect vanishing point.

5km to the downtown core. past schools and stores and hotels and apartments and bridges and restaurants and folks walking dogs. 45 minutes.

i stopped at NPS, stood in line to drop off my TIFF order, then ran a few quick errands before getting on the subway towards home.

finished everything in two hours and walked through my door, satisfied.

breakfast always tastes so much better with a half-done to-do list for the day already under your belt.

still sleepy

please refer to the comments section on yesterday's entry to find out why the sleep monster and i failed to rendezvous last night.

we did cross paths briefly this afternoon, as i watched DVDs and did laundry in my parents' basement, but i steadfastly refused to nap... believing that i would store up my slumber for tonight.

and, right now, it seems to be working. it's 9:30pm and i'm about thisclose to heading to bed.

so, in lieu of an actual entry tonight, please enjoy a musical interlude instead.

mmmmnam nam nam,,, sleepy

an early rising + a full day of manual labour + a fantastic burger and yukon-gold fries for dinner + a delicious mint-chip ice cream cone from ed's for dessert + a hot shower + jimjams + some saturday night TV = a wonderful night's sleep.

one hopes.

a brain whisper

every now and again, i’m reminded that there are various planes of consciousness on which we operate. sometimes, we live in a “what you see is what you get” state, where we’re aware solely of whatever’s right there in front of us and nothing more. but, other times, there’s some part of us, way way way deep down, that’s living and breathing and observing on a whole separate wavelength. it’s the part of us that informs “intuition” or “déjà vu” or a sixth sense.

yesterday, i went to my nearby grocery store to pick up a few things. it was relatively early in the morning, the air was crisp, the skies were clear and i felt invigorated by the weather. as i walked through the produce section, i had this strange feeling that i might run into someone i know while shopping. i looked around, didn’t see any familiar faces, and carried on through the carrots and leeks.

i stopped at the pharmacy to drop off a prescription and discuss dispensing fees with the pharmacist. i browsed snacks, grabbed a bottle of grape pop and made my way to the blissfully empty check-out area.

i stood in the express lane and waited. in front of me was a slim young woman, back to me, with shoulder-length red hair.

that was the sole defining feature of hers that i could see.

and – for the briefest of flashes, for no discernable reason and like a faint whisper from my brain – i thought of one of my former neighbours at hell house.

she’d lived on my floor for a couple of years, was pleasant and quiet, and moved out shortly after the nightmare tenants began arriving. we’d pass each other on the stairs or in the hallway every now and again, and trade horror stories about the building, and yet i can’t remember her name. the last time i saw her was maybe three and a half years ago.

anyway, the red-haired girl completed her purchase, gathered her bags and started to leave. i directed my attention to the cashier, who was ringing in my items.

“hey, you used to live in my building!” came an excited voice.

i looked over and the red-haired girl had turned around to face me.

it was, indeed, my former neighbour.

whoa.

“i thought i recognized you when you were over at the drug store,” she said. “and at first i couldn’t figure out where i knew you from, but then i remembered: the apartment!”

we briefly updated each other on our new homes, and how nice it is not to live in terror anymore, remarked at the odd coincidence of running into each other and then went our separate ways.

i was kind of stunned, frankly. there’s no way, based on where i was standing or what i’d seen of her or how little i remembered about what she looked like, that i could have known she was who she was. no WAY. hell house is way across town, and this former neighbour (at the time) was moving to another apartment near there, so it’s not like i had any idea she lived in my current area.

yet, obviously, some part of me recognized her on an unconscious level. like my energy recognized her energy somehow. i don’t know how, but it did.

and it was totally freaky and bizarre.

but cool.

one of the reasons i love "scrubs"...

a random non-encounter + teenage art

earlier this afternoon i was on the subway, standing near a doorway, when two teenagers -- a tall, lanky boy with shaggy hair, and a petite odd-looking girl who clearly has a crush on him -- moved beside me to excitedly look out the windows as we crossed over a bridge overlooking the don valley.

he was telling her to look down at something he'd made. he said you could only see it from high up, that it would be on the soccer field way below the tracks, but he worried that they might not be able to see it from the subway car.

and, alas, they didn't. he wouldn't tell her what it was that she would have seen, but he'd promised something like "massive hilarity" or some other weirdly pretentious-sounding combination of adjectives. i was actually disappointed that his creation was obscured by the tracks, and wondered what it could be. oh well.

two hours later, i was walking back across that same bridge, heading in the opposite direction towards home, and i remembered the mysterious soccer-field art. so, as i neared the spot on the bridge that overlooks the pitch, i stopped, went to the edge and peered over to see if i could maybe see whatever was there to be seen.

i should have known.

below me, mowed into the grass, was an enormous outline of a penis.

all the old familiar places

familiarity breeds contempt. or, at least, that’s how the saying goes. and, when it comes to TIFF and me, that’s certainly been the case the past few years.

but this year i’m going back to basics, drastically slashing the number of films i’m seeing – partly due to budgetary constraints, and partly because i’m still smarting from the hellish experience i had at the fest in 2008. and it’s kind of refreshing!

by the time TIFF ended last year, we were barely speaking. i was ready to break up with the festival that i loved for nearly two decades, and all set to walk away without giving it another chance. it was thisclose to being over between us.

today, though, when i got up early and embarked on a very brisk 45-minute walk to the box office to pick up my program book and schedule, i began to feel a long-lost sense of excitement. the optimism was still a little cautious, but my mood was definitely buoyant. as i approached the line-up, and saw the familiar faces of fellow fest-goers, i started to get all nostalgic.

i thought about festivals gone by, and the process that lay ahead, and the theatres, and the line-ups, and the curious people i'd no doubt meet, and the festival friends i'd encounter amid the film-going. and i suddenly felt completely at home. proud of my veteran status. eager to return to this familiar world.

maybe it’s the fact that i know i won’t have to try to schedule 35 films over nine days, or the fact that seeing fewer movies means i’ll be much less harried and hurried when the festival unspools, or maybe it’s just that the adrenaline that accompanies TIFF is already starting to seep into my veins.

dunno.

but i felt quite happy as i headed home and began to pore over films. this is the feeling that i missed last year and the year before, and i'm glad it returned.

going into lockdown

lately, i've felt a little scrambled. or a lot scrambled, depending on the day.

like i'm making mistakes. more than usual. and that, in trying to fix those mistakes, i wind up making more.

i feel this growing sense of anxiety and uncertainty, and i don't know why or where it's coming from.

like something's not right, but i don't know what.

and part of me thinks that, until i get a handle on everything and figure some stuff out, i need to go into something of an emotional lockdown.

that i need to keep things to myself, and work on getting life sorted on my own instead of looking outwards for answers or approval.

because i know i already have the answers.

somewhere.

and i know the only true approval i need of myself and what i do is my own.

but remembering that is hard sometimes.

wandering in old hallways

i have recurring dreams about hell house.

they're not really nightmares, per se, though some are scary. and they're not exactly whimsical reveries, either. sort of a strange, somewhat eerie, consistently unnerving middle ground.

and they’re always the same in nature:

in the dreams, i no longer live at hell house – i’m conscious of this in the dreams, and know that i now live quite happily in my current apartment. but, in the dreams, i’m always going back to hell house (filled with reluctance) to get the last few items out of my old place... which, inexplicably, i've left there for some reason. sometimes the building in the dream is the actual hell house building; other times, the exterior is some foreign structure but i know it to be hell house.

the overall feeling in the dreams is always one of anxiety, dread and discomfit. in the dreams, i don’t want to go back to hell house, i feel afraid and i always wonder how or why i could have forgotten [insert item(s) i’m retrieving here]. i make my way into the building, and sometimes the hallways are the same as i remember them being in real life – stark, empty and mildly forboding. other times, the hallways in my dreams are bustling, foreign, filled with frightening strangers... and i rush to the door of what used to be my home, quickly closing it behind me.

in my dreams, i always still have the key to my old place.

once inside, the apartment varies in appearance from dream to dream. sometimes it’s almost empty, with just a few random items scattered around. other times, it’s fully furnished. in one dream, the inside of the apartment was actually this gorgeous, palatial, expensive, professionally decorated extravaganza with a deck and a pool and a kitchen the size of a small country.

regardless, some of my things are always still in it, as though i never really finished moving out and am returning to finally do so. yet, in every one of these dreams, i find myself in my old apartment, dripping with anxiety, and completely baffled as to how to get my things out. there’s always an unsettling sense of “why is my stuff STILL HERE? why didn’t i take it with me when i left?” seeping into my consciousness, and a profound feeling of helplessness about the entire situation.

and i always wake up, or the dream ends, with me still in the apartment. still trying to figure out what to do. still feeling uneasy.

last night, i had another one of those dreams. this time, the apartment building was hell house, and the halls were empty, and my apartment was the same as the way it existed in actuality. but when i got inside, the living room was fully furnished, just as it had been when i lived there, though the bedroom was completely empty. in the dream, i knew that someone else was living there now.

i went into the kitchen and opened the fridge and saw it filled with someone else’s food. and i wondered how quickly i’d have to gather my things – including big red, which was still right there – before the new tenants came home. i then found myself in the bathroom, staring into the mirror and trying not to cry.

then i woke up.

i have no idea what these dreams mean, but i keep having them. sometimes they come in clusters, and i’ll have two or three in a matter of weeks. other times, months will pass between them.

a dream-analysis expert friend of mine once took a stab at explaining my subconscious wanderings, and she said that a home/house in our dreams represents our lives. me going back to my former apartment to gather something i’d forgotten so that i can finish moving out represents me clinging to some part of myself that i really need to release... and that whatever it is that i’m afraid to let go of is something that brings me (in my actual life) the same feelings of fear, dread, anxiety and helplessness that hell house brings me in my dreams.

she theorized hat i need to release whatever that thing is in order for me to move on emotionally or psychologically in my waking life.

but i’m not sure what it is. or how to let it go.

so i will continue wandering those hallways until i do, i suppose...

ow

here's what i've learned thus far this weekend:

installing laminate flooring is an exhausting, painful and hugely satisfying undertaking.

my legs, back, shoulders, arms and neck are all killing me, and my knees look like someone took to them with a baseball bat... but the floors in YB's basement sure are pretty.

this is also why i loathe hot and humid weather: violent thunderstorms

toronto and southwestern ontario had a really rough evening. severe thunderstorms rolled through between about 6:00pm and 8:30pm, and brought with them tornados (?!), power outages and plenty of damage. thankfully, my neighbourhood is fine, and so is the area where YB and my parents live. but... wow.

this is what the storm looked like when it rolled into downtown.

and these are some photos and video of the aftermath.

this is why i loathe hot and humid weather

my apartment is 30ºC.

my hair is a disaster, regardless of products.

i am sweaty all the time.

i am uncomfortable all the time.

i have to put a towel on the couch so i can sit on it and watch TV without sweating all over my furniture.

then again, i have to limit my TV viewing because the set heats up and then heats the apartment further.

i have no appetite.

cookies and crackers and chips go stale within five minutes of being out of their packages.

anything i take out of the fridge promptly develops an ever-expanding puddle of condensation at its base.

my toothpaste is warm.

my shampoo is warm.

my sheets are warm.

my floors are warm.

i am WAY too warm.

back to the chateau it is...

leaving the chateau

today is the last day of my heat-wave stay at chateau beatrix. temperatures have dropped to a more manageable “really warm” from “scorching,” and i need to go back to my apartment tonight to open all the windows so that the steamy, stuffy air that’s been trapped within it might be blown out or away. then, tomorrow, it’s supposed to rain.

it’s been a nice stay.

when YB moved in here, and i saw how old the house was and spotted all the cracks and crevices through which all manner of mother nature’s six- and eight-legged creatures might crawl, i thought there’d be no WAY i’d ever stay overnight here in summer. but i saw nary an insect for the duration of my four days here, despite weather that would send even the hardiest creature scurrying towards coolness. dunno whether they decided to cut me some slack or what, but it was a pleasant surprise.

i’ve had cake for breakfast, enjoyed fresh homemade meals for dinner, and napped frequently.

i actually managed to get a heap of writing done today. likely because i rebuffed the sleep monster’s persistent advances earlier and actually stayed awake. it was a LOT of work for what will be very little money, but i can’t really be choosy at this point. and i’m grateful for the deadline-induced productivity. but now i have a throbbing headache, and i can’t take anything for it because i'm currently experiencing some unpleasant intestinal distress of unknown origin, and pain relievers will only exacerbate the problem.

my visit’s been quite tranquil and fun. it’s nice to watch TV at night and have someone with whom to watch. i think i re-hooked YB on BB.

the neighbourhood is so picturesque and quiet during the day that it just makes you want to sit on the deck with an iced tea and do nothing but watch the stillness. you know, if it hadn’t been so blazing hot and humid, i mean.

sleepovers are good.

hangin' with the 'monster

i’ve been staying at YB’s for the past couple of days because toronto has turned into a sauna… a cauldron of steaming soup… a giant skillet on which its citizens are frying… and trix’s house has air conditioning. i’m extremely grateful for the accommodations and am quite content to remain at the chateau while she’s at work, even though i’m essentially trapped on a suburban island.

while here, i’ve encountered a curious phenomenon: it seems that THIS is where the sleep monster hangs out during the day.
who knew?

every day that i’ve been here, i’ve succumbed to the sleep monster very quickly and for long periods of time right in the middle of the day. yesterday, i got up in the morning, checked my email, turned on Regis & Kelly… and then fell asleep for TWO HOURS. i wound up having breakfast at almost noon!

today? sat down on the couch just after 3pm and, within about two minutes, felt that familiar haze settling on my brain. i grabbed a knitted blanket, fluffed myself a pillow, stretched out and napped... for almost an hour and a half.

now, i know i hadn’t been sleeping well for the days leading up to my chateau visit, so it’s entirely possible that my body is just recharging and sneaking in extra slumber whenever it can.

but i know it’s the monster. and i’m fine with its off-hours handiwork.

haiku for a heat wave

body melting slowly

tears become steam, it's that hot

humidity blows.

sweatin' on a sunday

it's hot and humid.

so hot and humid that i have no appetite and can't sleep.

thus, i have fled to the suburbs, where i will seek sanctuary with YB at her air-conditioned pad.

that's also where i'll be watching tonight's sure-to-be-fantastic episode of Big Brother.

this mini heat wave is expected to continue for another day or two, so please expect similarly brief entries until such time as i don't actually melt when i sit at the laptop.

perhaps a haiku tomorrow...

a simple laugh for a saturday

it's really hot and humid here today, so i'm not inclined to sit at my computer very long.

here, then, is something i hope you enjoy as much as i did. (make sure you watch to the end, and thanks to SM for the link!)

dogs are hilarious. and so is off-camera laughter.

overhaulin’

sometimes, changes in life happen slowly. you start out at point A, and have no idea you’ve even been moving towards point B until you open your eyes one day and realize you’re no longer where you once were. sometimes your movement might be upwards, and other times you may unknowingly be descending but, good or bad, these changes are sort of organic. you don’t notice them. they just happen.

other times, change occurs suddenly. dramatically. it might be something out of your control that triggers it, or it might be a case of you finally reaching a long-delayed decision and just doing it. these changes sometimes come with bigger challenges because you’re aware that they’re happening as they happen. they might be exhilarating. or daunting. or scary. your brain might even resist.

but if that latter kind of change takes places under the right circumstances, and if you’re on board for new directions, new opportunities, new ideas and new dreams... fear can melt away to allow curiosity, exploration and optimism to slowly take over.

at the moment, i am experiencing that kind of change. or, more to the point, driving it. opening my eyes and unfolding the road map to my future. i’m not sure yet where i’m headed or how long it will take to get there, but change is going on and more changes are imminent. i touched upon this when i talked about hibernation about a month ago and now, even more profoundly than before, i feel the need to turn inwards.

more importantly, i’m realizing where i have let myself go, examining where i have abandoned who i am, and heading out on the road of self-discovery.

or, perhaps, self-rediscovery.

two things of note that happened today (in order of appearance)...

1. i was standing in line at the grocery store, behind a young-ish woman and her young (maybe four years old) daughter. they were chatting amiably with the cashier as she rung in their purchases, and they seemed to know each other. the cashier then looked at the woman and said, "so, i see you're expecting your second child!" :::::: awkward pause :::::: "no, actually i've just put on a little weight," said the woman, who then went on to explain that she's on some kind of medication that's made her put on 40 pounds. the cashier tried not die of embarrassment right there on the spot.

2. on tonight's Big Brother, i witnessed one of the greatest strategic moves since james devised the now-legendary "five-finger plan" back in season six.

pursuing perseids

at about 3:50 this morning, i woke up because i had to pee. (yes, this is evidently a new theme to the blog entries.)

on my way back to bed, i thought maybe i should look outside to see if i might be able to spot any meteors. earlier yesterday, i’d watched a weather network interview in which an astronomer mentioned that a particularly dense “cluster” of meteors would be visible right around 4am, so i decided to see what i could see.

i went to my bedroom window, pulled up the blind and stared at the heavens.

the skies were clear and, even though i live in the city, i could see stars. not as many as i might if i’d been looking up from a country field or anything (where i imagine the celestial wonders would be spectacular), but enough that i was able to find some on which to fix my gaze. that was the advice given by the astronomer – find a star, lock your gaze upon it, and wait for something to cross into your field of vision instead of darting your eyes around.

so i did that.

and waited.

it felt like i stood there a long time but, in reality, it was maybe a minute and a half. i was almost ready to pack in it when i suddenly saw it: a bright white spot streaking through a small section of the sky.

that was the first meteor i’d ever seen in my life.

and the moment felt very special.

as soon as i saw it, i wanted to see another. so i stayed there, searching the sky, for another six or seven minutes and witnessed three more meteors darting quickly in and out of sight. when i went back to bed, i did so feeling strangely moved by the experience in a very lovely way. not only because i beheld my first meteors, but because there was something so delicately extraordinary about those few minutes.

the city was asleep. there was no sound outside, save for the occasional rustling of the trees in the light breeze. everything was completely still – there were no cars whirring past, no people on the sidewalks, no birds flying by, no activity.

just me, at my window, waiting to spot a tiny speck of magic.