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Location: British Columbia, Canada

Yeah. I got nothin.

Sunday, September 11, 2005

Drunk

So maybe now's the time to post the one hundred things about me:
  1. I live in Greater Vancouver, not real Vancouver.
  2. I don't bike.
  3. I'm an environmentalist, non the less.
  4. I eat meat.
  5. I don't eat pork.
  6. Unless it's bacon.
  7. The last god I believed in was a pig, he'd kill me for the bacon comment.
  8. Now I listen to Aphrodite.
  9. She's not always right, but she's pretty smart. Take a listen, you'll see.
  10. Aphrodite told me not to wear makeup....
  11. I don't. Usually. But sometimes I just want to look pretty.
  12. The world doesn't agree with me.
  13. On the nights I get prettied up, I end up the wing girl.
  14. I used to be hot.
  15. I used to be the hottest chick in Banff, which is saying a lot.
  16. Now I'm just me.
  17. And that's okay, because I'd rather be me than hot.
  18. But sometimes I wish I could be me, and hot.
  19. I like blue.
  20. And brown.
  21. I like fish.
  22. I grew up on the ocean.
  23. Not really, cause I'm from the prairies.
  24. But since childhood, the ocean.
  25. I used to think that barnacles were cool cause they gave good traction for getting out of the water.
  26. Now I think barnacles would land me in the hospital, with broken, bloody feet, waiting for nothing less than a transfusion.
  27. I revel in the fact that I can write this publicly, but no one is reading at this point....
  28. I hated my life, as a youth.
  29. I've gotten over this, somewhat, but not completely.
  30. I try, I fail, I loose people I love over this, repeatedly.
  31. I was wealthy, as a child.
  32. Yeah, not really, but my ma planned around us being wealthy.
  33. My dad was in med school, got to be a doctor, one day.
  34. Haven't really talked to him since.
  35. That kinda sucked, back when I was looking for parental support and all that.
  36. Mom always went with the 'for me, or against me' theory.
  37. The culmination of that was the day she attacked me with a meatloaf, and an axe.
  38. Yes, meatloaf+axe=crazy. But that's okay. Cause we had money. And if there's anything people with money have a right to do, it's threaten to kill their kid's.
  39. I hated myself.
  40. It's hard to explain how something that has so little with how I am now could have shaped my mind, but, I hated myself.
  41. I couldn't feel pain. The day poor Che walked in on me, I wasn't trying to hurt myself, I was just trying to find out if I was crazy (cause in I Never Promised You a Rose Garden, lack of pain proved you were crazy.)
  42. I have a big, fat scar on my arm, which I tell people is from a pot of boiling water.
  43. It's not. It's from however many cigarette burns it took to make a scar that big.
  44. I was just waiting for it to hurt.
  45. When I was younger, all I wanted was to die.
  46. Now, I would do anything to stay alive.
  47. I am terrified of leaving my daughter.
  48. I worry that I'll die, and she'll end up being like my mother.
  49. But I am not my mother, which makes me worry that in not dying, my daughter will not learn what is wrong, therefore will end up like my mother.
  50. I hate raising a child.
  51. I hate being accountable for something that I am so emotionally invested in.....How am I supposed to be unbiased in my opinions of what she does?
  52. I have come to realize that people who do not have children have not lived.
  53. On general principle, I hate kids, but after having one of my own, I realize that there is no such thing as emotion until you feel what you do for your kids.
  54. I used to think that parents were cheezy-assed bastards, but now I know that the whole "you'll know when you're there," thing is true.
  55. In the meantime, I wish people (including me) would understand that single mother's are humans, just like the rest of us.
  56. Some days, I thank some damn fucker (pick a deity) that I'm not native. Cause being a single mother is bad enough, and in Canada, being native is just about the only way you can add to that. ( Hooray for racism!! Tradition rocks!!!).
  57. I'm 5'10"
  58. I'm 135 lbs.
  59. My hair is brown. No blond. Yeah, maybe brown. No, I'd say more blond....you get the picture.
  60. I was once in the hospital for over a week, or so, in a coma, or something, I don't really know. That was back when I was a hormonal teenager, with a 'slightly' skewey mother, and an absent father.
  61. It was two years after that before someone explained to me the concept of Situational Depression.
  62. Before that, I lived every day waiting for the day that I would choose to die. I didn't know that I might get over it, no one told me that someday, I might realize that dying isn't an option.
  63. I'm still bitterly angry at everyone in my life for not telling me this. Sometimes, you are in a situation where you would be better off dead, but, someday, this too shall pass, and you will realize that life is all you have, so eat it up.
  64. I now have no forgiveness for people who can't handle depression, I suppose I'm a hypocrite for that, but I hate anyone who thinks they have a right to end their own lives.
  65. I love my life.
  66. I love it more so for the Prima's, who told me that she couldn't see how a single mother could afford to live in her building (despite the fact that her building cost the same as any other building in New West).
  67. I still fucking hate Prima. Someday. I'll find a way. Then she'll know.
  68. I take my associates degree for granted, yet I revel in it.
  69. Six months ago, I was a high school drop out. Now, I have a degree.
  70. I wish my degree was of the type that could get me a job, yet not really, cause I really want my bachelors.
  71. Deep down, despite the fact that I'm more likely to get a job with my finc diploma, I still want my BA.
  72. I'm getting tired, need to end this.
  73. I rant.
  74. A lot.
  75. I'm a feminist.
  76. I'm a socialist.
  77. I wish I was Swedish.
  78. I love three (of four) boys, but none of them are in my bed tonight. Okay, that's a lie, I don't believe in love, I just believe in.....Something.....
  79. I hate my past. I hate these blank moments when I have to try to come up with something to say, and that one year, the year that is a void to me, seems to fill up everything.
  80. I hate the fact that, no matter how much I think I've moved on, on nights like tonight, all I can think about is the rape, and the suicide attempt.
  81. I hate the fact that these things still mean anything to me, I am older now, I know that what is me is in my head, not my body, therefore I can withstand all physical assaults.
  82. My feet are a a size 7 1/2. That's exactly average.
  83. I wear a lot of neutral colours.
  84. I refuse to let the spellcheck correct my Canadian terms to American. I like my u's.
  85. I have had sex with more then fifty men
  86. I have never cheated on a boyfriend
  87. I have never (knowingly) slept with a man who was married.
  88. I have once (unknowingly) slept with a man who was married.
  89. I have never had a one night stand.
  90. I have gone through 90 questions, and still don't know what I define myself as.
  91. I am a student.
  92. I am a mother.
  93. I love my daughter more than you could ever imagine.
  94. I am trying.
  95. I hope to succeed.
  96. I hope I find out what success is, before I get there.
  97. My favorite colour is blue.
  98. My lucky number is two.
  99. I like fish, and cats, and dogs, but not so much small dogs.
  100. I hope, someday, to come to terms with my past, find peace within myself, and discover the joy of self fulfillment, the calm of forgiveness, and balance, more than anything, balance.

7 Comments:

Blogger brando said...

That was, and will be for a long long time, beautiful.
Maybe as much as its a spelling-out of you, its also a metaphor for you.

9/12/2005 10:09 AM  
Blogger Impulsivecompulsive said...

That's the joys of posting drunk (or talking drunk, phoning drunk, general drunken communication). One can choose to write the whole truth, which is always so much prettier than not, and use that infamous excuse of inebriation.
The only difference here is that, given sobering up, posts can always be deleted. But we don't have to go there.

9/12/2005 4:45 PM  
Blogger Impulsivecompulsive said...

And it very nearly made Che cry, which is, of course, my main goal in writing. It's gotta be good if someone cries?

9/13/2005 7:59 AM  
Blogger Michelle said...

This is an amazing post.

PUI (posting under the influence) can be so very liberating!

9/13/2005 10:22 PM  
Blogger Impulsivecompulsive said...

Thanks Michelle. And you're right, it is liberating. Although it took about six hours of serious thought to convince myself not to delete it the next day.

9/14/2005 10:20 AM  
Blogger Fist of Trueness said...

You are tall. Stick to your guns. Stick to your superfluous "u"s. Stick to it.

9/16/2005 12:13 PM  
Blogger Impulsivecompulsive said...

I shall never give up on my "u"s, as superfluous as they may be. Go Canada!

9/17/2005 5:36 PM  

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