Inner Black Eye

Why are people so disappointing?

All throughout my teenage years, i was told by all of the slackers that i just cared too much and if i didn't care so much, i wouldn't stress myself out and i wouldn't be disappointed when things didn't work out.

my response was always that i didn't know how to not care.

i've always been a planner. it gives me comfort to have an idea of what could be. it gives me a sense of purpose and grounds me. without a plan i feel lost and anxious. me and S were laughing the other day about how i have to "plan to be spontaneous." for some reason, knowing when the appropriate time for that is, gives me peace of mind.

i've never been able to stop caring or planning, except when it comes to my personal life.

I haven't cared about someone else, i mean really cared, since my hair was all one colour, since i worked at a convenience store, since clubbing was a verb that was a regular part of my vocabulary and wasn't used when referring to banging my head against objects due to frustration at work.

i just turned off a part of myself that used to be so open and unconditional and instead, i became someone removed, present but not fully in attendance. I became cold and distant because that meant that i didn't have to be disappointed. perhaps i could be pleasantly surprised instead?

i let go of that hard exterior not too long ago. i felt the pieces crumble and for a little while, i was slowly remembering what it was like when i was just me - no doubts entertained. things had colour again and texture and for the first time in a long time i felt something that i told many of my girlfriends i don't feel when it comes to people: excitement. And hand in glove with that excitement came anticipation for what comes next.

today i'm disappointed. not with someone who seems to have let me down, but with myself. i'm disappointed that i feel stupid. i'm disappointed that i didn't try sooner. i'm disappointed that i think it's not ok to feel something and to have expectations.

so i guess this time, i'm just disappointed that i disappointed myself. More than ever i'm realizing that disappointment is just one of those emotions that outweighs anger and sadness and really leaves a bruise.

Unspeakable Magnetism

Tonight, Tonight, Tonight.
I'm waiting for, waiting for...

What was she waiting for? He was right there beside her and he kept looking at her with that look that seemed to be screaming desire.His looks were something else. When he looked at her she didn't just feel pretty, she knew she was pretty.sometimes he looked at her with such wonder she couldn't help but question what he was actually thinking about. he has this way of grounding you in the situation to the point where the room you're in melts away into the background, sounds dim and people fade and all you are left with is this exchange with him. a one-on-one where clocks follow their own sense of time and she's left feeling lost in the moment.

Tonight, Tonight, Tonight...

she knew she was being a pain, purposely trying to get his attention, to make him watch her instead of his work. she was being selfish but to catch that smile of his, directed at her...she bends over for a book. she saunters around the room. she perches on the desk. finally she takes a seat and touches his arm, she allows her head to touch his shoulder just for a second as she teases him about work. however, the knight's armour is in fine form tonight. but then he rolls his chair back beside her and she can feel her breath catch in her throat as he stops in line with her.

he had asked her to come...well sort of. he had said she could if she wanted but those eyes felt like they were asking her to come. they beckoned her, tugging at her compulsions. she wondered if her eyes were screaming yes even though her mouth was trying to act cool. was he just trying to act cool? or maybe the invitation was out of politeness? another look in those eyes and she knew she was going, the pied piper had played his tune and she felt herself fall into step directly behind.

If words could make it real I'd tell you how I feel

His tune changed to her tune. he was playing her song now. those fingers moved across the strings effortlessly hitting each chord as though he had played it before, as if it were his song too. her breathing quickened as she watched his hands. he played her with each strum, did he know? the guitar might as well have been her body. she felt each chord played, each transition. the hair on her arms rose as she watched with bated breath wondering where he would touch her next, each stroke causing her heart to pound a little harder. his eyes flick up to hers momentarily, just enough to catch her gaze before the connection is shattered and his focus returns to her song. she tries to gather the fragments and put them together into some kind of coherent understanding of what his glances mean. what does he want from her? He looks her way again...eyes lock...

Instead I'm waiting here on my knees

She takes the guitar from his hands, taking his left hand and placing it on the curve of her back. play me, she whispers as she lowers herself onto his lap. his right hand slides up her thigh, strumming out a new song now. her body responding with each new chord that is played. she shivers and he looks away. shattered glances on the floor once more, he's still playing her song. she sings to distract herself from the reality-bending pull from his eyes.

it's getting late.

I'm waiting for, waiting for

he pulls her in for a hug and instead of a quick friendly embrace his arms take her in and pull her against his body as he lifts her from the ground so that her face is parallel to his. there they stand, with her suspended in mid air, cheek to cheek in a moment that passes far too quickly and yet lasts a lifetime. she fights the urge to wrap her legs around him a prompt that might coax him into pressing her up against the wall in what will inevitably be the beginning of more than "friendly" activities. as he places her back on the ground and slowly pulls away, she tries to hold onto the touch allowing herself to peel off of him with the same steady and yet regretful motion as that of melted wax dripping down a candle. she could kiss him right now. she knows she could easily turn her face slightly as she slides past his. she could say something. she could tell him she was going to kiss him just like that first night.....

Tonight, Tonight, Tonight...

But she had set rules. she had said that behaviour had to be appropriate. she had said that she would respect his wishes and his situation and be supportive. she had said she could do that. he had almost let her go. what would he think of her if she did? would he think she was disrespectful, that she obviously didn't listen to his concerns?

I know how it feels to breath with you beside me
I think about it always

touch lingers as fingers interlock and reluctantly fall from one another. he backs away from her and the oxygen leaves the room as she starts towards the door. she looks back to wave, to flash one of her signature smiles. her mouth says goodnight, her eyes say i don't want to leave. he says goodnight. he puts on a half smile that seems to say dont leave me and she fights with her better judgment, knowing that if she steps forward and he doesn't she'll have more than a bruised ego and that's not something she's willing to let him see. so she keeps walking

i'm waiting for, waiting for

she doesn't hear him say come back. she's focusing on making her feet walk forward, one after the other. right. left. right. left. had she heard she would have been in those arms. confirmation in her hand, she would have been with him

Tonight, Tonight, Tonight
i'm waiting for, waiting for the night

Be the Exception, Not the Rule.

During WWII, my Nonna was still living in Italy. From the age of 13, as soon as she finished what they considered grade 5, she began working in the city as a babysitter and housekeeper for a wealthy family in order to help support her family. What she had really wanted to do was be a teacher and her own teacher had even gone to her mother and offered to pay half of her tuition herself if her mother would allow her to continue studying. However, times were tough and my Nonna's father had been captured and was a POW in Germany. Therefore, because my Nonna was the oldest of her brothers and sisters, her mother needed her to go to work. When my Nonna tells the story she always says her mother laughed and asked the teacher if she was stupid. The thought of wasting money for school, for a girl, was unimaginable. So, my Nonna traveled to the city every day to work.

At this time, the war was really raging and the threat of attack was a constant presence in mind. the first time my Nonna heard the alarm sound announcing the threat of bombs, she hurried down to the shelter along with everyone else for protection.She describes it as the most crowded area she has ever been in. the people were packed in, packed in so tightly into this underground area that it became increasingly difficult to breathe with each passing second. The smell was overbearing. The seconds passed by like hours.

After that one time she swore never to go under again. Never.

Now for those who know my Nonna, they know that when she says never she means it. My Nonna, god love her, is one of the most stubborn people I have ever met. Trust me, I've traveled across the world with her and it could come to something as trivial as putting on your seat belt in the airplane, but if she doesn't want to do it - she won't. For better or worse, when she sets her mind to something there's no changing it. I've come to learn that I inherited some of this trait. However, I do hope that because I understand how stubborn I can be that it makes me stop and think from time to time and consider why I feel so set in my ways.

I've really only ever had one act of stubbornness that lead to all out screaming matches with my parents, arguments with my extended family and many tears on my part. When I was close to graduating from high school, I applied to four post secondary institutions: UBC, SFU, UVIC and Kwantlan (my safety). My number one school was UVIC. I didn't really know what I wanted to do, all I knew was that i loved to write and UVIC had a fantastic writing program that I wanted to take. The acceptance letters began rolling in and I was accepted to every school to which I had applied. So I assumed that I would be going to UVIC, my parents however, had other plans. They had assumed I would be going to UBC as my dad works for the university and I am eligible for a tuition waiver. When I told them I was going to UVIC, I was met with strong aversion from my entire family. I was told I was ungrateful, that I was being ridiculous, that my opinions didn't matter. It finally came down to my parents telling me that if I went to UVIC, they would not be helping me financially. Feeling defeated, I was one day away from accepting UBC when a letter arrived from SFU. I had been awarded an entrance scholarship. In that moment I chose my university based not on the school's merits, but because of what it was not: UBC.

When my mother asked if I had sent in my acceptance letter to UBC I spitefully old her that I had accepted SFU and she and my father couldn't say anything about it because they weren't paying for any of it. From that day forward they never paid for one cent towards my education.

The next time the alarm went off warning of a potential bombing, my Nonna was working in the home of the wealthy lady. She was busy dressing her little boy when the alarm wailed through the streets. The lady of the house began pulling at my Nonna to go to the shelter and my Nonna refused. The lady began to beg and plead for my Nonna to go with her but instead my Nonna told the lady to take her little boy and go while she stayed in the house. Wealthy she might be, but it was not a wealth of courage that she held. The lady being too afraid to go on her own decided to stay with my Nonna. My Nonna, the lady and the little boy hid under these great stone steps in the house and waited for the alarm to sound that would tell them the danger had been averted.

I spent seven long years at SFU. I began an English degree which I rushed my way through only to find myself in a panic filled situation where I realized I didn't know what I would do if I graduated. I studied abroad in Italy and learned a valuable lesson from one of my favorite books: "it's not what the world holds for you, it's what you bring to it." I returned from Italy and added a Publishing minor to my program which reminded me that I should be dreaming big and aiming as high as I could for myself. Shortly after starting my minor, I added a Communication major to my program. Communication, a subject I had once thought of as "stupid English" and that was not offered at UBC or UVIC. In fact, SFU's Communication program attracts students from across Canada as it is considered one of the best. All facts I was unaware of and all facts that had no bearing on me falling in love with the program and what it had to offer me in terms of options for the future.

it was during this waiting time that two bombs dropped.....and landed... one on either side of the shelter, killing everyone inside.

It took me seven years to realize that a decision I made because I was too stubborn to accept someone making a life altering decision for me, was one of the best I have ever made. I'm graduating this year and all I can think is where would I be if I had decided to go to UBC. Would I be happy? Would I have a job I love? Would I have met the people that I consider my nearest and dearest? Would I have met my first love? Would I have found self love?

Where would my Nonna be if she had gone into the bomb shelter? Would I be here to reflect on it now?

While I don't think that being stubborn or wholly unbending to alternative ideas and situations is healthy, sometimes, just sometimes, it's in those moments where we follow our gut and act on raw feeling that we can discover the most about ourselves. We can discover that we are the exception, not the rule. It is in these moments that we realize that we don't have to just go through the motions of living but that all of those motions are leading to something great if we want it to. Be the exception. Look for what you need and don't settle for anything that plays contrary to your needs. Be the exception. Fight for what you need to make your future yours, even if that means being stubborn every once in a while because you never know when a bomb might drop and make the decision for you.

Northern Exposure - His Story (authored by the 'He')

thunk. his head falls against the inside of the door.

as he exhales he opens his eyes peering through the peep hole into the hallway.

“c’mon.. “ he whispers to himself. .. waiting. watching. terrified.

flustered with nerves and weightless. clearly out of control and positively
certain. adrenaline races around lighting strikes and through questions
without answers.

he’s afraid to close his eyes. if he looks away even for a second and misses her who knows what he really missed.

“c’mon.” he says allowed.. “how’d I get here?” he thinks.

it was probably 2 hours ago when he first noticed her looking his
direction. and not in a glancing way. in a ‘hold my gaze as long as you
like. i like it too.’ kinda way. probably an hour before that he’d
spoken with her. the normal small talk of sorts. be charming. be kind,
appropriate and nice. “be polite, and you’ll find out what you think
about somebody.” he’d heard before.

what he quickly noticed was that when she laughed, it felt like her hand had
touched his. looking in her eyes felt like a warm hug, and her smile
shot anything clever he could think of out of the sky. his interest was
peaked. and as the details danced closer to the edge of desire, he
realized that really... he knew nothing about her.

as part of his brain fantasized, another part strategized. another part
started to question and another part gave answers, until everything sat
in a giant mess in his mind. and then, smack dab in the middle of all
the half-plotting landed a shot of tequila.

huh?
he searched the table for an answer, yet the answer was at another
table. the oldest of old time gestures. he scoffs to himself at the
nerve of that fellow. he shrugs aside this feeling of unnecessary
jealousy. he goes back to his conversation with another person at the
table just long enough that when he looks back, she’s on her way over to
the table for introductions.

interesting.

the dozen or so futile ideas he had about how to walk out of this place
with his arm around her fell to the ground and exploded on impact,
burning his feet and making him forget how to walk. each thought rattled
quickly from one part of his brain to the next, as he tried harder than
ever not to show it. poker face.

the moment kinda hits him like the house lights at 2:15 AM. A signal
perhaps, who knows. Not him. Better he pays up, join the group and see
about getting home. There’s things to do. Practicality starts to filter
back through his mind.

But as it hits so does the jealousy. An old inclination. Maybe its the
feeling that you get get when something meaningful feels like its
getting shelved for something useless. or maybe he was just wrong about
what felt meaningful.

Fuck it. You got a plan? The only decent one is to get up and leave with
everybody and have her come with. Everyone else gets up to leave
naturally. he feels like an actor.

And then.. it all takes 5 seconds to change. 5 seconds to go from ‘would be
nice’ to ‘what do we do?’. she grabs her hat and jacket, and puts them
on the back of the seat next to him; not on her own back. she won’t be
joining him.

he tries to part the shallow sea of alcohol floating in his mind. his fist
clenches in his pocket. his eyebrow rises. does she know that he’s
thinking of her? would she do this if she did? the cold blast of the
night sky feels colder then it should. its tainted with a combination of
that which is certain and that which is uncertain. ‘what do i do?” does
he do nothing? the cavalry won’t be coming over the hill if she needs
them. there’s no rules out here. he realizes that he knows the tables
intentions more than he knows hers.

15 minutes have past.

sitting elbows on knees boots still on, feeling like he’s been throwing punches underwater.

16 minutes.

she’s an adult. what do i have a crush? why don’t you just relax and realize
that you only feel mad because you feel like you got beat at something.

17 minutes.

that’s ridiculous. beat at something? that doesn’t make any sense. you’re
concerned? sure. you’re infatuated? probably. how come? those eyes
perhaps...

18 minutes...

nope. not happening. can’t do it. no one will be there to help if she needs
it. if she doesn’t, then great. he’d rather upset her and have her safe
then sit like this and not know. selfish. he doesn’t care. he’s the
closest thing to a cavalry that she’s going to find if she needs one.
not a terribly secure feeling - but here we go.

convincing help isn’t difficult. away they go. one of a thousand situations could
play out, but he knows if she’ll be angry or happy to see him right
away. it’s a lovely night otherwise..

perfect timing or the only timing? a minute earlier may have brought about
challenges, from broken beers bottles to drunken negotiating. a minute
later could have brought panic. but there she is.. wrapping things up.
here we go. … get out.

one of them catches him eye to eye. he’s saying his goodbyes, or at least
now knows he should start to. chances are he wasn’t saying goodbye
before hand, but trying to find a way to say to good morning.

put together a pathetic ruse. she’s quick to come to her friends.

safe and sound as they say. he can take his boots off. exhale. minutes later the group is back together.

the magnetism is unmistakable. to his left he can feel her eyes. he wonders
if she can feel how badly he’d like to put his arm around her. he
wonders if it feels more awkward for both of them to not be pressing
closer to each other. he wishes they were alone. even for a second. he
wonders if she’ll try and find him later. or what she would say if he
tried to find her. what would he say? in this room of people every
little thing he wants to say or do would raise an eyebrow. except to
her. she’d understand. she’s thinking the same thing.

ding. elevator opens in the lobby.

1.

2.

217. He’ll never forget 217. 4 or 5 seconds go by with him trying to stare
at her long enough that she’ll read in his eyes that he wants her to
stay with him. her stare seems to say the same thing. “i’ll be sitting
against the inside of my door.” they both say. her door closes quietly.
his heart rate is jacked.

thunk. his head falls against the inside of the door.

as he exhales he opens his eyes peering through the peep hole into the hallway.

“c’mon.. “ he whispers to himself. .. waiting. watching. terrified.

Northern Exposure

the mood had shifted. they were looking for more and she knew it. the tone had changed, grown more suggestive and the urging for more drinks in another location grew more insistent. she knew it was time to go. the voice that had told her to have fun and enjoy the company of the cute stranger in the black hat was now telling her that too much alcohol had been consumed by too many people. 5 of them. one of her. it was time to go.

bills tallied, cash exchanged, coats on and blast of cold air as the door opened. quiet. darkness. isolation.

they wanted her to come. she laughed and joked about a long drive the next day. they wanted her to come.

quiet roar, stirred dust, silver beast - dinosaur? no, F150. the driver waves. doors open. her people have come. they retreat as they see she isn't alone.

she moves to the vehicle and he jumps out. doors slam, flurry of excitement, forgotten communications, sly glances from passengers.

he enters the vehicle to her right. she inquires after his missing item. he presses his leg against it, against her. she's been found.

realization. confirmation. deliberation.

she desires contact to thank him. she calls, she knocks, she waits, she knocks, she waits, she retreats.

miscommunication?

phone rings. not him. an invitation, a chance to investigate. she looks and waits and tests the temperature. she leans where she hasn't before. she instigates contact. he smiles. he shrugs off her thanks.

yawns, goodnights, he glances back down the hall? or did she imagine that.

morning. did she imagine it? she's uncertain and shrugs off her crazy thoughts. she blames it on the alcohol. then he gives her shoulder a squeeze while passing her. a simple squeeze, but a suggestive squeeze. the squeeze tells her he knows she knows.

they know.

Going Steady..

It's official, i'm going steady with my company for a while. I signed the paperwork yesterday for my new position. Publications Writer/Editor 3 --> That's me!

It's a Full Time Temporary (FTT) position for the first six months and then they will post the job officially and I can apply for the permanent position. Doing it this way allowed them to get around formally posting the job and doing a formal hiring procedure right off the bat. It also gives me the chance to really understand my job and prove that i'm awesome at it before they hire other contenders.

it feels so good that my future actually seems to be unfolding. It took me seven years to finish university and that time was often filled with so much uncertainty where I wasn't sure where I would end up or if I would be able to make it in the real working world.

i've been really fortunate with every job that I have ever received. i have had the chance to vie for some amazing opportunities and once i've gotten myself in there i've been pretty lucky at making a good enough impression that i've been able to secure myself a place there in the long term.

when i got the letter of offer yesterday...i can't remember the last time I felt that excited about something. i'm pretty excited about graduating in June, but this was a whole other level. I haven't even graduated from university yet and i am fortunate enough to have a job right out of the gate.

K and I had a tea date last night and we were discussing how we're both "happy career women" and we both feel so fortunate to be able to say that we're truly happy with how our lives have unfolded thus far and the place we are at right now. A place where everything is not necessarily exciting all of the time but it is good and we are happy. I don't think that a lot of people are happy with their lives or are in love with their job more often than not. i've worked at a number of places where people don't necessarily like their job but they're stuck there or they aren't motivated to find something they enjoy. At this company you really don't get the sense that people dislike their jobs. everyone is so passionate and involved. it's a fun collaborative environment and yet we produce a large volume of work.

i think i have chosen "a real fine place to start."

"I don't want anyone else, I just want you"

You'd think at the sound of those words any girl would be melting into a pool at the guy who said its feet...and I am no exception. Except those words didn't come from a guy I was interested in romantically. And those words were not in reference to a relationship with me.

Those words popped out of a senior manager's mouth while I was in his office listening to a job proposal. that's right a job proposal. Instead of diamonds I get a salary and instead of promises of a dream home, I get my very own cubicle in the office.

Either way it's the offer of a future with a company that is very successful, treats its employees very well and provides the opportunity for consistent professional growth.

This opportunity will allow me to really work on my writing and interview skills. It will give me that chance to take ownership over our company's internal communication system. I'll have the opportunity to travel and see all of our province. And i'll get to be part of a new family that is very tight knit in the office and highly supportive of one another.

The paperwork hasn't been signed quite yet, but it's looking quite promising and I think the Year of Me is truly starting with all the shrieks, tears and hugs that go with that popped question.

For my first big proposal it was well worth the wait.

I'm not alone.

I was sent this article the other day by one of the directors at my place of employment.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/01/18/us/politics/18early.html?_r=2&pagewanted=1&ref=politics

The article describes how young aides at major companies are getting up at 4 and 5 am every morning to pour over news clippings to "synthesize it, summarize it and spin it, before their bosses start the day well prepared."

This is actually a component of my job. I listen and transcribe news clips before I go to bed every night and I rise around 6 am to catch all of the morning clips and compile them into a summary for the executive team at work.

it's kind of nice to know i'm not the only one who spends all hours pouring over the news in the wee morning hours.

I could start a Facebook group...

Sagi-WHAT?!

**I'll say hey you say baby how's your day i'll say crazy...** (yes this is my ring tone...)

Me: Hello?

J: Hey

**random chit chat**

J: so are you still a Capricorn?

Me: Nope, i'm a Sagittarius.

J: Oh really? yea i'm a Virgo now.

Me: Now...? i've always been a Sagittarius...

J: Oh so you didn't change

Me:.......hunh?

J: They changed all the astrological signs, you might not be a Sagittarius anymore.

**I dash to computer and google madly**

Me: WTF, what's a Ophiucus?

J: i'm guessing you're the new sign?

Me: yea no longer a Sagittarius by one day...


So that was how my weekend unfolded itself. I lost my astrological identity. Not that i ever paid all that much attention to astrology but I always felt that i was a Sagittarius, I mean the personality traits always made sense. Fire sign, fiery temper, redheaded. And i know you're thinking but they make those traits so general that they could apply to anyone. But check out this one: *ahem* "Because of their desire for change, Sagittarians may have a hard time committing to a relationship for very long."

Now if that's not me to a T then i don't know what is.

Of course i've now had to learn my new personality traits. They're pretty much the same across the board on all websites:

* A seeker of wisdom and knowledge (it has taken me 7 years to complete my undergrad because i kept extending my degree)
* A flamboyant dressing sense, favouring bright colours. ( i LOVE colour)
* Authority looks upon him/her well (very obedient, never got into trouble.. missed that rebellious gene)
* Would make a great architect or builder (ok we strike out here)
* Number 12 is the lucky number.
* Will have a big family but will leave home at an early age (i LOVE the idea of a big family but am concerned about its practicality...and well...i've left home a couple times...and came back....but i was only 18 the first time)

But my favorite, and the one i think is the most applicable personally, was found on one website which declared that Ophiucus' are "wearers of plaid".

I am choosing to interpret this as my astrological sign understanding my love of country music. Accordingly, when i walked past the display in Walmart with $9 plaid shirts...i bought two.

The Year of....

i'm a bad blogger....i know, a really bad blogger. i fall off the band wagon whenever life gets too interesting. I will try and be better in case there is someone out there who actually reads this since i know how frustrating it is when my favorite bloggers don't have any entries for a couple months....like how i just suggested i'm someone's favorite blogger? oh dear.

so my girlfriend K has decided that 2011 is the "Year of K." Everyone seems to have "their" so called year. My friend J claims it was her 23rd year because that is when everything fell into place for her educationally, professionally, romantically etc. She convinced me that 23 would be a fantastic year and 23 came and went and meh it wasn't bad but it wasn't fantastic and didn't really feel like the year of me. I'm still waiting for the "Year of Me" but i'm using that theme and slightly trying something new for 2011.


My New Year's resolutions this year are:
- To be kick ass professionally
- To get a permanent job placement and stop working contract positions
- To save enough to purchase a condo by the end of the year

now i don't think 2011 is necessarily going to be the "Year of Me" in exactly the same way as for K, but i think it will be a year for myself in that i'm going to focus my energy on myself, on improving myself in every aspect of my life and of becoming a stronger more independent person than i am already.

This year i will not worry about not being in the same place as all of my friends. This year i will acknowledge my age and the success that has already come my way and be happy with what i achieve.

This year i will not reach past what is realistic, nor will i compare myself to people who are in entirely different places than myself.

This year happiness will be an integral part of my lifestyle and those things which do not add to my life in any way will be cast off to make room for something new.

This year i will let love find me if it so chooses and i will not worry, nor actively seek out relationships because i have so many other things that i should focus on for myself in the present. Worrying about being the "single friend" in my circle of girlfriends will no longer be a concern because I will accept that everything happens in its own time.

I will embrace new situations, opportunities and people. I will relinquish control over those things which i ultimately have little control over and accept what comes my way.

It's time to turn a page and be a better person.

Oh Brave New World. Hello 2011.