Snarkland’s Question of the Week

Which is more important– the actual experience, or the memory that remains of the experience after it is over?

Interesting question. You can’t have the memory if you don’t have the experience. But does that make the memory more important? I don’t know. Then again, if you had a great experience but couldn’t remember it, would that be enough? And memory is such a fickle beast, everyone at the same event recalls something totally different from one another after, as if they had attended different events. It’s a complicated question. I don’t know that I can choose.

Often when I’m having an important experience, I am totally aware that what’s happening is significant and I’ll acknowledge that, turn everything else off in my brain, clear my mind, and just totally be in the moment and enjoy every breath spent there. This is something new in the last couple of years or so and it seems to occur with more frequency the older I grow. I don’t know if this is because I was less able to recognise important life experience’s when I was younger, or what. But I totally recognise them now and I’m completely able to shut everything else down and live in the present moment.

It might seem then that the experience would be the most important to me, but I’m not so sure, because the memories from these experiences where I’ve been totally and completely present without another thought in my head . . . these are the most spectacular and powerful memories I’ve ever had, and I cherish them. I take them out and let them wash over me when I’m feeling a little down and need a pick me up. I visit them and hold them close like old friends. I can’t imagine not having any memory of these important times. But I also can’t imagine that the memory would be enough if I hadn’t offered myself up so openly and freely to the experience to begin with.

Ah, it’s kind of like the chicken and the egg, you can’t have one without the other . . . if I absolutely had to choose though, I would have to say the experience is more important to me. And I’m having these wonderful experiences more often it seems, maybe because I’m more open to them, maybe because I always had them but didn’t recognise them, I don’t know. But I think without the memory of the last experience I would just go on to create even more new experiences, and that would make for a very interesting life indeed.

Mood: trying to get psyched to do some pilates or yoga or something, stretch out my too tight back
Drinking: not much
Listening To: The Beatles, Let it Be
Hair: tucked behind one ear

Monday Madness

1. Name 1 comedy movie you’ve seen.
There’s Something About Mary . . . why this is the one I think of, I do not know.

2. Name 2 black and white films you remember seeing.
Seen lots of black and white, movies were better back in the day when they had to rely on acting and plots instead of special effects . . . of course a lot of the b/w flicks got colourized later on . . . Off the top of my head — Casablanca and All About Eve

3. Name 3 dramas you thought were worth watching.
Dramatic cinema, hmmm, so many to pick from, so little time . . . And worth watching is hardly a huge endorsement . . . everything is worth watching once in my opinion. Ok, here goes: Vanilla Sky, Titanic, Mystic River . . . but holy frig there are so many!

4. Name 4 television shows you watch on a regular (or semi-regular) basis.
The L Word, Six Feet Under, The Sopranos, Deadwood

5. Name 5 things that, in your opinion, are advertised on television too frequently.
DRUGS, DRUGS, DRUGS and DRUGS!! Like really, all those allergy meds, and get skinny meds, and cure your arthritis meds and get it up meds and all those meds you have to visit the website in order to understand what they’re for . . . really bad on the American channels in particular. Even worse than the fast food chains.

Mood: stuffed to the gills with supper
Drinking: yeah, just a little, it IS Halloween and I AM a Barnbonian at heart
Listening To: Eagles, Take it Easy
Hair: up to one side

Another SNA Epidsode

Sunday Night Anxiety, again. Can’t sleep. Went to bed. Rolled around for two hours. Listened to the boy on the other side of the wall mumble in his sleep for awhile. Said fuck it and got up. *SIGH* Why do I do this? There’s no need for it. I could just as easily be this anxious any night of the week, nothing has changed from last night or the night before that. Nothing will be any different tomorrow night. I’ll still have too much crap to do, too much stuff in my head, too many projects on the go . . . the only thing different will be that I’ll be sleeping like a baby. There’s no logical explanation for any of it.

Thinking I should dye my hair red before I cut it in a few weeks time. I’ve been seeing lots of long red hair and really liking it. I remember the first time I went red. It was Toronto and not a permanent colour. It was a very dark though bright brick red. I went out clubbing with MB and we ended up staying over at one of her friend’s apartment. The colour was new and rather shocking to anyone who knew me, a dramatic change, but these guys didn’t know me. They thought I was a redhead, kept remarking about it. One guy was totally turned on by my hair, loved redheads in general, followed me around in particular. We kept telling him it wasn’t real, it was going to wash out, but he wouldn’t believe me. They had bets on it. I had to wash my hair several times to demonstrate. Funny, the things you remember.

I’ve got some blonde in a bottle here already, was going to touch up my roots before wine weekend with trish . . . now i’m thinking maybe i should go get some red . . . paint the town red, is that the saying? It is official though, I’m going short by the end of November. Got Mom making an appointment for me for when I’m home for the next workshop. Going to the doctor then too. Would throw in a dental visit while i’m at it, but he’s only in on Tuesdays and that does not work for me.

My sore throat candies numb the inside of my mouth . . . interesting, but a little scary. If I had any brains I’d go to emergency and get antibiotics, because i could be mighty sick by the time I roll into blackville again . . . but i’m still hopeful i can hold off. I’ve got my sinus meds, non-drowsy for daytime, sleepytime for night (though i can’t take those ones at all because they knock me out for 16 hours at a time and make me stupid for a good 12 hours after i do get up), got my sore throat drops, got my tissues and water and cognac and wine and even a little diet pepsi . . . just in case the urge strikes. Got green leafy stuff for vitamins and hot sauce to burn the sickness out of me . . . even bought thai microwave dinners to be entirely certain that I do eat everyday this week regardless of how yucky i might be feeling. I’ve even got 12-grain bread for godsake! And I never have bread. I haven’t actually eaten any of the bread yet . . . but it’s here, just in case, if worse comes to worse I will have toast and tea . . . and if I’m having toast and tea, THEN i will go to the hospital and get the antibiotics.

At the drugstore I could barely squeeze into the cold and flu med aisle. It was filled with students, coughing and wheezing and sneezing and generally not looking very well at all, complaining about how they never get sick, can’t believe they’re sick, no time for being sick . . . they so did not know which stuff to buy . . . Nyquil is lovely stuff, but you do not want to be sucking back any of that and thinking you can write a five thousand word essay. No way that’s happening!

Okay, end of SNA rant. I’m going back to the bed to see if sleep will come now.

Cold Case

Do you ever watch it? It rips my heart out every episode. Slays me. Makes me weep.

“. . . I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; ‘and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together . . . ‘” — Martin Luther King Jr. 28 August 1963, Lincoln Memorial, Washington D.C.

Go On Take the Money & Run

It’s funny how certain songs take you certain places. In the same way that AC/DC’s Problem Child always reminds me of Bradley Hogan, Sheryl Crowe’s All I Wanna Do takes me to Uncle Terry’s club. Reminds me of Darren mostly. Darren and Uncle Terry and me, the Barnettville Mafia 🙂 armed and dangerous, ready to knock off liquor stores and kidnap blonde cashiers. Too funny.

Like Steve Miller. Steve Miller takes me to the PowerTrack every time. And there’s no logical reason for it really. I mean I was listening to Steve Miller LONG before the PowerTrack. I was the one who bought the CD of greatest hits for the jukebox, because it was one I liked, it was good. And now everytime I hear any of those songs, instead of going back to Toronto or even further, I find myself in the PowerTrack hosting a pool tournament. It’s a little bizarre.

Been thinking a lot about the PowerTrack today anyway, and how it changed me, changed my perception of people in general. This because I watched Crash last night. I watched Crash and I was disturbed. I was upset. People don’t treat each other this way, I thought. I wanted to believe it too. But people do, people treat each other so terribly. People treat each other so carelessly, so reckless.

I have only to think back and remember the PowerTrack. The stuff I saw. The way the husband would brush against me, make a point to touch my hand when paying for drinks, wink at me knowingly, with the wife sitting three feet away . . . and those were the polite ones . . . there were the others who just took what they wanted, thought it was their entitlement, heard I was giving stuff away and why couldn’t they get their share.

The way I was treated. Like an object. Like food. Every man, woman and child wanted a piece of me. It was always about sex or money, and it must’ve been mostly money. Because I still don’t get it. It’s not like I’m Halle Berry. Is every bartender in every club putting up with everyone’s sexual advances? What is it about the bartender that everyone thinks they should fuck them? Anyway, every time I thought I found a true friend, someone who honestly cared what happened to me, it always came back to money or sex or both. And as soon as they realised they weren’t getting any, they left. But they didn’t leave quietly. They made up stories, made a big deal, made other people think getting sex or money or both from me was an easy venture. Is it any wonder I became so cynical about people? That I dropped out for a few years? I mean I can count the people who weren’t looking to fuck around with me on one hand, maybe less than three fingers . . . and I KNEW everyone. It’s truly sad. This is the general public. This is your father, your mother, your uncle, your aunt, your brother, your sister, your boyfriend, your girlfriend, your husband, your wife, your best friend . . . And for the most part, they cannot be trusted . . . well, if they’re hanging out at places like the PowerTrack, they can’t be trusted.

I’m gradually gaining some faith back in the human race as a whole, encountering more people who seem more sincere . . . or am I becoming more naive again as I put considerable distance between me and that place, I don’t know, I don’t even care really. I want to believe that people are generally good. If I can get back there, that’s where I’m going.

It’s also true that I missed a couple of real opportunities with sincere people while I was involved in the club scene. Like that one boy, so much younger than me . . . I didn’t take him seriously. But he was one of the good ones . . . he didn’t know how to be anything but serious, god love him, what was he, maybe 20 years old? And sober, drug-free, employed, with that car . . . was it a mustang? Classic something or other. He had the world by the tail, he did. And shy. When I think what it must’ve taken for him to approach me that night, in front of everyone, in front of Darren, and ask me to go with him . . . good grief! And I totally didn’t get it, blew him off so casually, so quickly, without a thought . . . ahh, but Darren knew cuz he pulled one of his little ballistic jealous hissy fits and I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. I can be so dense sometimes. I honestly thought he was just being a nice guy, just asking me if I needed a ride home. Ha! As if ANYONE ever just offered me a ride home to be nice.

Later me and Mom are having one of those conversations about all the shit I’ve screwed up in my life (but not in a mean kind of way) and she’s frustrated I haven’t married, haven’t brought forth grandchildren (this pressure let up once my sisters came through, now she’s just thankful I’m not a lesbian . . . tho not entirely certain that I’m not, but hopeful . . . I like to tell her about my girl crushes just to keep her on her toes 😉 and she says if she could’ve picked one guy for me it would’ve been him, this young guy from the club with the blonde hair and the blue eyes and quiet manner who wasn’t a drunk and into drugs and actually worked . . . and it was only when she said this that I fully realised I missed an opportunity, there was more on the table that night than I thought at the time.

But everything always works out for the best anyway. He’s married now, has kids, a good life. And I’m right where I’ve always wanted to be and becoming less cynical about the human race every day . . . which I happen to think is a good thing. It helps that I no longer have access to much money and I’m no longer slinging drinks for a living or hanging out at the bar everynight. I’m meeting new people all the time, some bad, but mostly good, overwhelmingly good and kind, and this is helping to restore my faith in people in general.

Mood: better with sinus meds
Drinking: Banrock
Listening To: U2, With or Without You (Radio Skipper, Italy)
Hair: smelling lovely

To Halloween or Not to Halloween

Beautiful friggin’ day here! Finally! Blue skies. Sunshine. I’m going out to get some sinus meds. I need antibiotics, I know, have appointment with the doc for next time I go home. I could go to the emergency room here, but I’d rather suffer the pain at this point rather than go to the hospital and endure emergency room crap. It’s not like I’m dying.

Tomorrow is Halloween and I still don’t know what to do. Will there be children knocking on my door wanting treats? Should I buy some just in case? Because if I buy some and then nobody knocks on my door, I will be the one eating all that candy, which is very uncool. And I will eat it, as witnessed by last week’s German Christmas Cake that I was supposed to keep for Mom, now gone. I could just not answer the door I suppose, or go away even. I would feel bad if children showed up and I had nothing for them. Dammit! Have to buy treats. It’s the right thing to do. If I end up eating them . . . oh well, so be it.

Mood: stuffy
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: The Who, Teenage Wasteland (radio free colorado)
Hair: walking on sunshine

Saturday Six #81

1. What is a bigger pet peeve for you: someone trying to talk on a cell phone during a movie, a baby crying in a restaurant, a dog barking on your street, or music played loud enough to rattle windows.

Definitely the cell phone. I dislike them under the best of circumstances, but in the movies . . . drives me nuts.

2. What is your favorite cologne or perfume that you wear most often? Which one is the one you like the scent of, but don’t wear often or at all?

Well, I wear Celine Dion. It’s the only one I own. But the one I love and I never wear because I don’t know if they make it anymore, I’ve had no luck finding any anywhere, is Poison by Dior I think.

3. In your opinion, what is the best way to tell someone you value how much they mean to you?

Saying I love you. I don’t do it often. I don’t do it particularly well. And you better believe if I’m saying it, I mean it. It’s never done lightly.

4. Take this personality quiz if you haven’t already: how accurate were the results compared with your true personality.

My results — 41 TO 50 POINTS: Others see you as fresh, lively, charming, amusing, practical, and always interesting; someone who’s constantly in the center of attention, but sufficiently well-balanced not to let it go to their head. They also see you as kind, considerate, and understanding; someone who’ll always cheer them up and help them out.

I’d like to think this is accurate, but I don’t know, I can be a bit of a wallflower by times, super quiet, I think it’s only after you really get to know me that you start to see the lively, charming and amusing side of me. I’m certainly always up for cheering people up and helping them out though.

5. When was the last time you feel you got as much sleep as you really needed in a single night?

Last night. Bed early, late rising . . . a rude awakening in the middle, but no harm done. I think I usually get enough. I never set an alarm anymore unless it’s absolutely necessary, I’m relying on my body to tell me how long to sleep.

6. If a stranger walked up to you and handed you a briefcase with enough money to pay off every debt you had down to the penny, do you think you could start from then on living debt-free?

Nope. I mean I probably could, it’s feasible . . . but I know I wouldn’t.

Mood: suffering with the Greco heartburn
Drinking: water
Listening To: John Mellencamp, Rumbleseat
Hair: still with me