One A.M. Radio

Kellie here is your horoscope for Friday, April 30th:

A possible change in direction might present itself today. You could meet someone new or run into someone you haven’t seen in a long while, and be offered an opportunity to change your entire career. Or it could become crystal clear that you need to consecrate yourself to your artistic pursuit or hobby full time. Whichever it is, Kellie, this is a great day to pursue it, and you may feel driven to do so even if you have your doubts. Your accomplishments in the past afford an advantage. Follow your instincts.

Not bad. Interesting stuff, that. Worked to the wee hours, but cut back most of the bnm stories to give design more room to play. This might be the snazziest issue yet, but we’re all agreed next time is going to be off the hook! Much to do in prep for freddy. I may just pack the backpack, strap it on and go do the runaround on foot. Yes, it’s far, yes, it will take a long time to complete this circuit on foot, but I can probably do it and still catch the bus. Save cab fare.

And she’s off to the races!

Mood: tad sleepy
Drinking: earl grey
Listening To: bittersweet symphony, the verve
Hair: bed head

Long Day Gets Longer

at the office all day today, proofing bnm. some pretty major changes to do to stories tonight. several hours work before i can go to bed. have to get up early tomorrow. i need to do dishes, a couple loads of laundry, sweep, total my income tax receipts and send mom the figures, go to the bank, go to my landlord’s office, pack, and get to the bus station by 1:30 pm. yeah! that’s gonna be pretty crazy. every one of those things has to happen or i can’t get on the bus. so here we go. another whirlwind weekend begins. perhaps i will check in from freddy. perhaps i will not. was supposed to go a couple of weekends ago, but it got postponed. oh well, off i go into the wild blue yonder.

Mood: tired
Drinking: earl grey
Listening To: smodcast 7, an icelander showing you your own beating heart
Hair: my maternal aunt marilyn circa 1977

New Day

Celebrity guest stars abound in last night’s dreams. I had won a contest like Project Greenlight or else I had just written a script that got picked up by a bunch of fellows and we were making a movie. It’s unusual for the writer to be onset all the time, to be so involved perhaps, but there I was–sitting at the end of an exhausting day of shooting on a long couch with Kevin Smith at one end, me at the other, and Ben Affleck stretched out between us. Oh, I can’t even remember the conversation! How much fun is that?!

We were going over scenes. They were doing most of the talking. I was really, really tired, and overwhelmed, and completely aware that I was sitting on a couch with Kevin Smith and Ben Affleck. The couch was outside, under a canopy. It was night time, dark except for lights the crew had up. Location shoot. We had been going all day and were just on a break before we started some night shots. It was kind of funny because the location was on the Barnettville Road, right where the tracks used to run, before they straightened the road. The couch and the canopy were in the middle of the road right where the tracks had once crossed. The boys were smoking cigars, and I was starting to drift off to sleep listening to their voices. It was a little chilly, like early autumn. Crew running around everywhere. Orders being shouted.

And then I’m being scooted over so Matt Damon can join us and he’s asking questions, how I found the first day, is it everything I thought it would be, am I cold, do I want his coat. And I’m sitting there scrunched in between Ben and Matt and answering questions and Kevin’s cracking jokes and Ben’s making fun and it’s just a wonderful dream. Light and easy and fun. Good stuff! But details are fuzzy. I do remember Ben tormenting Matt making him do all his characters, chanting, “be Jason Bourne, Be Jason Bourne.” And I was thinking yeah, like what’s he gonna do? And then finally he was like okay, okay, and he stood up with his back turned to us and then slowly turned around and damn! He was Jason Bourne! Posture, expression, eyes, it was very cool. A good dream on a windy night.

The wind has picked up. A constant howling around my windows. In the bedroom the windows are actually rattling, like they could implode and shatter at any moment. I wanted to go out today, to the bank, to buy coffee, but I don’t know, it might be too cold in the wind. I do have a propensity to freeze my ears, in any kind of wind, even in a summer breeze. I know it sounds crazy. But it’s from having frozen my ears so many times when I was a kid, now they’re vulnerable. So maybe I’ll stay in today and go tomorrow. Check the weather and decide. I do need to go out more, I’m missing my walks, the run-around. I’m sure I’ve gained 10 pounds just from the lack of them.

More good news! GST comes next week! I feel like Mary Tyler Moore. I’m gonna make it afterall.

Mood: much improved
Drinking: russian tea
Listening To: howling wind
Hair: pulled back

OMG!

I think I’m going to get income tax back! The Mama’s been crunching estimates and it looks like. Whew! This could save me from myself. I need to get into the receipt box. I’ll start while I eat supper. I need to find something to eat for supper. This is the best news I’ve got in awhile now.

Mood: rising
Drinking: cold earl grey tea, black
Listening To: seagulls
Hair: pulled back off face

Panic Attacks

If you’re having a good day . . . do not read on as I’ll suck you into my negative force field. If you’re having a bad day . . . definitely do not read on as you’ll never find your way back to the light if you let me suck you down into my pool of negative ranting. And there’s hope for you. You can turn it all around yet. Me . . . I’m not sure.

You have been warned. Stop reading now.

Panic attacks. Used to be only a night thing. Sunday Night Anxiety, that sometimes transgressed into the week. Weren’t those the good ole days? Who knew? I don’t know how I’m supposed to go to Fredericton this weekend AND go to Sackville in two weeks time AND go to Moncton in a month. I’m sickened by this whole spring deal. Maybe something good will happen. Maybe there’s no need to panic. (Feeble attempt at optimism.)

I dreamed of Grandad and cousins and . . . Regis Philbin? Donald Trump? Chickens pecking on my head. I’m not sure about all that. A cousin was in trouble. I wonder if he is really. Sometimes I suspect he might be. I woke with a powerful urge to reach out and see. But then thought better of it. Dreams are never about the other person, always a reflection of self. I’m the one in trouble. Helping someone else might take my mind off it for a bit. Alleviate the panic attack. But that is all. I need to do something drastic like fall in love or go out west or . . . I don’t know, something to knock this funk away.

Yesterday, I felt a little better. I looked forward to a supper of salad with pumpernickle bread and butter. I haven’t been able to afford to buy food. That’s the bottom line. Last week’s junk food binge aside. I couldn’t afford it either, but in the throes of PMS these bad choices happen. Bygones. It sounds like a simple thing, salad and pumpernickle. But it’s not, Mom sent me the fixings or I’d be without. And I looked forward to it all day, even though I had no chicken wings or any meat at all to go with it. Then I went to get it ready and I noticed the salad was not the kind I normally buy. I like the field greens, this was romaine and cabbage and carrots . . . it was the carrots thing that ruined the whole experience. Carrots and my favourite raspberry dressing, do not mesh. Oh well, I soldiered on, beggars can’t be choosers and all that. And then I went to slice the bread and found that it wasn’t soft and light and fresh, but it was Best Before Sunday, expired, stale, on the way out.

And I sat at my table eating my salad and bread supper and just cried. I cried because I should be grateful I have anything on my table to eat at all, and I hate myself that I can’t just be grateful and stop wanting more. I cried because I was disappointed. I cried because I just want to be able to buy food and cook meals again and get healthy and just be normal. I’m gaining weight from this no breakfast, no water, one-meal-a-day, non-veggy, non-protein, all starchy carbs way of eating that I feel like I’m being forced to adopt. I just want my life back. And I hate myself for wanting anything. Here I am in this wonderful big apartment, with more space than ever, a gorgeous view, eagles flying by daily, sunrises happening right in front of me, with a cozy bedroom AND a spare bedroom, walking distance to everything I might want and need, surrounded by friends and family who actually come visit and spend time with me, with a bathtub for christsake . . . and I’m frigging miserable. It’s crazy for me to be like this. I am crazy. And they say money can’t buy happiness . . . well, the lack of it, sure seems like it can take happiness away.

And I know this isn’t permanent, I just need to recoup from the move. The move happened early and threw a huge wrench into my life. It was supposed to happen after all this April stuff, I was supposed to be poor in May and June and maybe July . . . but it would be sunny and hot and . . . I dunno, perhaps easier then. Perhaps not. But all this travel would’ve not been an issue had the move occurred when it was supposed to. Because I could’ve just hitched a ride to board meetings with others going, I would’ve been in town for AGM, and again I could’ve hitched rides with others going to Frye. Hardly any expense. Very little. But the move happened early. I had to finance it on my credit card. I had to pay rent on two apartments for one month. My minimum credit card payments are now very unreasonable. It’s taking every cent I have just to keep the current apartment. Just to pay the minimums. There’s nothing left over and not even really enough to do what I need to do to live.

So here I am, all moved into a place that I truly love, where all I do is cry and worry and suffer panic attacks and store fat. This is irony.

So ends today’s rant. And that’s all I’m going to say about that. Period. Next post will be brighter and more optimistic . . . even if I’m secretly planning to slit my wrists.

Mood: wrecked
Drinking: russian tea
Listening To: buddy above wandering the floor (does he work?)
Hair: i give up

Round & Round

Had a good weekend with the kids. They were pretty well behaved. Little fighting, nothing much. Overall they’re quiet, no running around and so on, content to play cards at the table, watch movies in the bedroom, and play video games on the computer. The Missus won all my pennies in BlackJack. Her tarot reading showed mostly cups and a couple pentacles, so it’s all about the love and money with her, lol. I told the Pumpkin that if her mommy gets a computer I think it would be wise to limit her time on it, because she gets away. She agreed. She does get carried away. They didn’t want to go home. But that’s better than being lonesome the whole time I guess. Next I must try to get the other set of kids to come for a visit. It’s more challenging with them, because I have to get the routine down. And of course there are three of them, which makes them naturally more to handle. Need to have a better plan when they come, activities and things. But it’ll be good! Fun stuff!

It was a good weekend for loot. Got a boxspring for my bed, courtesy of my mother who couldn’t stand to have me sleeping on a mattress on the floor. So now I’m up wicked high, the highest ever, because in sackville I didn’t have a bed frame, but I have one here. And my sister got a new bed, so I have her old one for my spare room. So BAM! I’ve gone from a mattress on the floor to two full beds! Cool. My mother also sent groceries. I keep telling her she doesn’t need to. I’m not starving. But that’s my mother. She said she just sent stuff from her cupboard that they weren’t eating. And yes, some of it, obviously is that, but a loaf of pumpernickel bread and a bag of romaine salad? Methinks not! I also got two end tables for my living room and a lamp from my brother-in-law’s parents. Their house burned down last weekend. These things were salvaged from the fire. They don’t smell smoky or anything. I put the lamp in my bedroom so I can read in there at night. The lamp makes the room very cozy.

So, lots of things coming my way! Drawing in all kinds of good stuff. This is good. I start this week with some optimism.

Mood: well
Drinking: russian tea
Listening To: water running in the pipes
Hair: new conditioner coming soon to a shower near you

Black Eyes

More dreams. Not getting really good rest. My mattress is bothering me. Maybe I need a boxspring. It’s hard to know what’s going on. Impromptu visit last nite. Good to sit around and drink tea and just chat. Good to get your mind off the world and life for awhile. Just laugh for a bit and recharge. Kids coming today. Lunch time ETA. We’ll have a good time. I will take energy from their giggles and keep it with me to last the whole week. Soon I’ll hit into that very cool springtime high I always get, when all I will see is possibility. Can’t wait! It’s gonna happen. Soon.

The ice grows thinner every day. The black water surfacing. I study the different shadings and as ice melts and water pools in pockets on the surface. It’s like a desert mirage. The birds playing, fighting, flying around one another, swooping into one another. The eagle is boss. When he comes, all the others scatter, flee in flocks. I see things here, outside my window. The huge bird (was it the eagle? the sun is too bright to tell) cruising past my window in strong strokes, the squirrel clutched in his beak squirming and try to loose itself. Just now I saw this. I could sit and stare out the window all day long. Maybe I should.

Mood: unusual
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: national health, the kinks
Hair: maybe i need a new touchstone