MY ENTIRE MIND!

I keep losing things lately as of now my winter hat and my brush is missing, wait I merely looked a second and found my hat lying in the laundry basket. Perhaps if I look there my brush will be there too? Had a quick look and it is still missing.

Another thing I seem to be losing at an alarming rate, my entire mind. MY ENTIRE MIND! When people ask me how I am doing or what are my plans I keep saying I’m good or I am up to nothing really, but want I really want to say is I am waiting for my life to start again. It has seemed to come to an abrupt halt. A complete standstill… and the things that shouldn’t be worrying me are and those that should aren’t. For instance I couldn’t give a crap about student loans and whether or not they take my money, after it was there money that got me too Australia in the first place.

I’ve been trying to get back to my writing but I am just stumped. I have all these ideas stuck in my head just itching to get out, but I can’t place them into words.I have this sneaky habit of having a story idea, starting to write about it but then putting it aside because for starters.

a) I get bored with it
b) I get stumped. I am unsure of how the story progresses next. I guess this is a classic case of writers block.
c) I write fragments of the stories as they come to me and I have no idea of how to piece them all together. One time I wrote the ending first, but I couldn’t figure out where the beginning starts or if a story even has a beginning, but merely a starting point.
d)I start to hate it because it just gets on my nerves causing me to get frustrated with the piece I am working on.
e) I forget about it.
f) I focus too much on the characters to the point that I am not sure how to do them justice. It’s hard to explain.
g) This sounds weird but the characters don’t like what I am writing or additional characters I am adding.

I’ve only really finished one story, but it still feels like I am not done it at the same time. I always wonder is a story ever finished? Oh wells I hope you enjoy my writing and reviews are always nice.

Then there is the fact that I don’t own the English language in which I am creating these supposed stories. I don’t even own the symbols that make the language possible. No one does and if you want technical not a single thought is possible without it. Lacan even said it. There is no self, no thought without language. And I think it was Barthes who postulated that we don’t own language. So I am I stealing or something, or just merely existing in a system of signs unaware of the power of words I use and the anxiety that comes with the use of language. Not mention there is no author only readers and I am a first reader. Case in point I am rambling. The English language, better yet language and the art of using it creatively in stories confounds me.

P.S. Ummmm…..Its my 200th post in this blog.

How I spent my Sunday Afternoon.

Today I saw a movie that brought me back to my fascination with cultural analysis type days back at university.

Anything for Love (also known as Just One of the Girls, a Canadian film :P) is a story about Chris Cadler a musically talented and rather effeminate teenage boy who falls in love with the stereotypically blonde beautiful Marie Stark while pretending to be a girl to escape a bully. I see this movie dealing more with sexual identity and the stereotypical gender codes we are forced to follow rather than a stereotypical teen romantic comedy, which just proves that I read too much into stuff.

Chris and his friend Dan are frequently victimized by Kurt and his gang of followers. Kurt is a a rough creepy fellow who seems to have a fetish for dominating others where it be his friends who aid in his bullying or others. He wears tight jeans and leather which brings a certain negative stereotype to life. Kurt is the epitome of hyper masculinity. More about him later…

Chris enrols in Bentley high school for their music program. Soon it is found out that his tormentor Kurt also attends the school. On his first day of attendance he can’t even make in the front door with out Kurt harassing him. So he devises a plan to get in the front door. With the help of his sister and perhaps the inspiration of a person he saw on the bus that may or may not be transsexual. (She looked very Mrs. Lachlans’ Mumish.) Chris decides to dress like a female and soon as he is inside he change back. His plan is amazingly successful. However, he encounters two teachers while dressed as a girl and somehow gets stuck in this role, something I don’t understand because his disguise is transparent. I could tell he was a guy dressed in drag and he seemed to have no qualms with acting like a female. Despite this Chris is constantly trying to keep up with the charade with somewhat humorous and stereotypical results.

Nearly everyone is deceived. Marie becomes his best friend after Chris helps her escape from her boyfriend John who constantly pressures her to have sex with him when she is not ready. This part kind of reminded me of a scenario in health class, where everyone had to watch the videos on abstinence or waiting till we were ready, the ones with cheesy story lines and bad acting. There were several of these types of moments in the entire movie. THE ENTIRE MOVIE! Even more so when John dumps her for not going all the way, it is implicit that he is an asshole, but that is typical male behaviour that is somewhat a given and could and would be expected from a teenage boy. Marie’s typical female response is to be all sad and emotive about it. Marie wants it to be special, while because John is a guy just wants to have the physical side of it.

Marie even convinces Chris to join the cheerleading squad, at first he declines, but when told he could potentially spend a weekend with cheerleaders he accepts because being a boy he clearly likes to ogle womanly bits. It is this attraction to the opposite sex, which is seen as a problem with his sexual identity by the gym teacher/councillor Ms. Glatt who noticed him gazing at other girls whilst cleaning showers. It is because of these perversions his secret is discovered. When she speaks to Chris she assumes that he is merely a lesbian, trying to hide her secret feelings. While having the discussing in her office Chris assumes that she is talking about him being a male and dressing as a girl. When he reveals himself she freaks out because apparently dressing in woman’s clothing is a completely different matter. Chris quickly pointed out that there was no difference and made up a story about him having a fetish since he was 11. She suggests counselling to help him with his fetish for woman’s clothing.

However the part of the movie I found the most interesting was how Kurt is immediately attracted to Chris’s persona “Chrissy”. He becomes hopelessly love sick. Throughout the film he is constantly vying for “her” affections. Chris finds that he can use his feminine side to manipulate him as well as maybe play with emotions as well. Chris even asks his sister Julie if there is a way to manipulate him to do his own biding. In which she asks if me means to emasculate him. Chris is successful you see a change in Kurt’s appearance and his aggression slightly subsides. It is implied by Chris that Kurt is homosexual because he is always around guys and is constant need to dominate other guys and emasculate them, symbolically robbing them of their manhood by beating them and harassing them. It becomes more awkward when it is discovered that Kurt is Marie’s brother.

His parents seem oblivious to his activities, but once they are slowly unravelled his father Louis in particular becomes concerned, especially when Kurt brings him flowers and a love note when Chris is not at home. He immediately assumes Chris is in the middle of a gay love affair and hopes to God that Chris and Marie are sleeping together. He asks Chris if he is gay and says it’s OK, when its semi clear that it is, but it isn’t. Chris replies by telling him that it was just a joke, a way of Kurt harassing him. Eventually when Chris’s true intentions for dressing as a female are revealed his father replies by saying “you should have stood up to him (Kurt) I didn’t raise a sissy.” His father forbids him to go back to school like a girl and intends to transfer him to another school. Sadly Chris needs too stay at the school in order to attend a winter showcase, where talent agents are attending and could aid in his career as a musician, but his father is intent on him not becoming a female again to the point that he is almost irate.

When Chris finally comes out with the truth he is booed at by a crowed in a pep rally, slapped by Marie who misconceived his intentions a way to get into her pants and nearly beaten up by Kurt. Although Kurt’s reaction was more from embarrassment as he had no idea Chris was a girl. The stigma attached to being in love with a boy was clearly relevant throughout the film and oddly Chris doesn’t seem to be too worried about Kurt’s crush on him, more likely amused. Anyways, on a movie level it was somewhat better than some cross dressing type movies but like I said earlier a lot of scenes reminded me of health class. I found it to be kind of dull, a way to pass the time. It was sweet, but kind of sour as far as movie experiences go, utter tripe. However, on a cultural level I found it to be profoundly interesting especially Chris’s relationship with Kurt, both as a guy and as a girl, as well as the reactions from Chris’s parents and his teachers.

I could ramble on, but I will just leave it at that….so now you know how I spent my Sunday afternoon rather than going to church to apease my mom.

P.S. Alanis Morissette had an entire cameo in the movie I just talked about. AN ENTIRE CAMEO! She sings at the end!

It's been done!

So it finally happened. Something I for the last couple of years thought was necessary, nearly happened, then didn’t, something I never expected to see happen and it did. My brother has officially been put into care. I commend my mom for caring for him for so long. She gave up 17 years of her life.

It’s always been about him. I was the older sister, the second helper, the other sibling. There is nothing physically wrong with me so I often felt that I wasn’t important. As far as I am concerned I lost my mother when I was seven and I might as well of entered adulthood when I was 12. I wonder if other siblings of special needs children feel the same way I did Ignored, sometimes second class! I find it hard to explain what its like. You’re ignored but your not, you’re there but your not. You hurt because of it. You feel guilty for feeling this way and all at the same time you’re resentful of them, but love them dearly too. Sometimes it depresses you. I never even admitted these feelings most of the time. I don’t blame him for this. Its not his fault I feel the way I do. I love him no matter what.

I am very much interested in writing a book about this for some reason. Not just my experience but others out there too, the invisible ones. Maybe it’s because you always hear about the parents and their special needs child, but I’ve never read a story about their siblings. They are just as much part of the child’s life.

I won’t go into details of why this has happened, only that I know it had too. I surprised myself by being upset by it. I thought I would feel differently about it, but I don’t. I feel guilty, like I am aiding in giving up on a family member, the only family I have known is splitting apart. I still have my other family, but they are all far away. :( I miss my friends. I'll MISS Tony.

My little bro :)

P.S. I’ll never understand life. I just confounds me. I also hate my writing. Its turned to utter crap due to the fact that I have severe writers block.

Comming to terms

Have you ever been to the point in your life where it just doesn’t seem to be going the way you want it too? Then you suddenly realise it may or may not be your entire fault? I’ve gotten to that point. I’m alive, I am existing, but I am not living or happy…that’s pretty much it. So I guess this is where I say I am depressed. I admit it. I wish I could say this started after I left Australia, but I’ve felt this way since I was young. I think I am just coming to terms with it myself now. I am not sure what else to write at the moment…

So I guess what I really want to know is, is there anyone else out there that feels this way? Don't worry nothing will happen.

And now something to cheer this blog post up…I planned to post this upon my return to my native land but I never got around to it…



P.S. I clearly have a bad case of blogarrea or perhaps bloggers block. I apologise for this lack of entry.

Princess Jo!

Princess Jo, the character, the person and the Barbie doll?

It all started two years ago when I found a Barbie doll at a thrift store and for some strange reason decided to buy it. She had long blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. She reminded me of the Barbie in a colouring book that my brothers step mom gave me.

She sat on a shelf in my kitchen with all my other collectables; I wrapped her in a red neck scarf as I had no proper clothes for her. Then two years later while unpacking things I left behind when I went to Australia and I find her amongst the random junk I saved. That still makes no sense to me.

I constantly tried to fix the red scarf not sure how I managed to make her presentable back then. She sat on my bookshelf next to my computer desk. Finally I felt bad for her clothing impairment so I bought her a cheap pink princess like dress at the dollar store. Then I suddenly remembered the character and the person and Princess Jo was born. Princess Jo which of course you know stands for:

Pretty
Radical
Intelligent
Nice
Calligraphic
Eccentric
Silly
Sultry
Jovial
Oddity

As Princess Jo continued to sit near my computer desk, I was sometimes compelled to fiddle with her hair to see if I could make it more presentable. On Christmas Eve, I decorated the dress and hair with beads and buttons to make it more artistic. I was intent on turning her into an artistic piece. Then I was going to give her as a present to my moms special needs friend Erika, but I couldn’t do it. Suddenly this doll had some sort of sentimental value, which sadly had faded some by Christmas morning, but spawned a sudden fascination with my inner child.
Tony gave me a new Myscene Barbie doll, which I named Astrid Viola Morningstory for my brother’s amusement. Astrid was much nicer and prettier than Princess Jo. This caused to be PJ ignored to an extent. Later on Christmas evening Tony insisted I bring Astrid and Princess Jo out to play toys with him. PJ was degraded somewhat. She was forced to go on car rides with “GI Joe-Ken” and was danced around dizzy by Erika, then attacked by my dog Sydney, which supplied much amusement to Tony. Her new dress was damaged by rough handling from more than one party, not just the dog and her hair became out of place causing her to look like a mad woman. She was also accompanied by a broken earring and some lovely teeth mark in her face.

Luckily I restored her to her former glory. I fixed the dress and braided her hair. However, Tony still liked her ,calling her by name and inquiring if he could borrow her. I let him make use of her while he played with his toys. He was tickled pink that I was allowing him to play with something of mine. Sadly some days I would find her half dressed lying under the couch or defiled by my dog or in the process of being eaten by Sydney. I started sitting her on my dresser rather than near my computer because Tony insisted she sit with the other dollies. Despite her mistreatment I still allowed Tony to play with her, occasionally when I joined it I let Sydney in on the play too. He was the scary gromit her ate dollies. It became one of Tony’s favourite games. I didn’t mind any of this I figured she was an old doll so it didn’t really matter, but oddly she was still important.

Sadly Princess Jo’s life as a toy has expired. She ended up on the floor again a couple of evenings ago. I tried to save her from Sydney’s jaws of death and her head ripped off, breaking the piece that holds her head on. Sydney decapitated her because he hated her. THE END! Have I thrown her out yet? Nope she still sits on my dresser except she is holding her head in her pink lap. Suddenly her sentimental value has increased. I guess it’s safe to say that Princess Jo the character and Sydney might not get along either as for the person I have no idea. As for the spot the doll Princess Jo used to sit, I put a photo of the real one instead.

P.S. I started reading The Time Machine :P

Happy New You!

Happy New Year! (Sorry about the lateness...)

My brother says Happy New You! This has got me thinking, is each New Year that arrives is it a time to be a new you, to reinvent yourself?

2009: What does this year hold for me? What adventures and misadventures shall befall me? Well it certainly won’t be like 2008 starting out relatively good, then changing to good byes, stressfulness, frustration and emotional obscurity. It seems to be starting out the exact opposite.

But before I go on about 2009, perhaps I will share some of my insights, highlights and whatever else I can think of about 2008.

Highlights of 2008:

Finally getting a degree! Despite the fact I haven’t actually seen it yet. I hope it hasn’t got lost in the mail.

Going back to Canada. It’s been good, but it has also been a bit rough…

Finally finishing Song of the Superheroes or was that 2007? I know I finished it then but I believe I was still working out the kinks for months after…I can’t remember.

Best quotes of 2008:

“I wonder how old I will be when I am 50.”

This was said at the dinner table with Jim-Lady-Man Person and Sue-Woman, which resulted in Sue-Woman erupting in hysterics. I mean to say to my grandma. “I wonder how old you will be when I am 50.”

“It’s so romantic. I need some rope.”

I randomly said this to Elise-Woman/Lady. She was discussing her crush, which I thought was romantic and I had mentioned my issues with Officer Octogenarian. She told me to get some rope and “rope him in.” Somehow I put the two trains of thought together to make this random Melissaism.

“Someone is having a Barbeque!”

I was watching King Kong with Elise and Sam-Lady. Ironically it was at this very intense moment where the two main characters were going to kiss. I smelt the barbeque outside at the pool the Brazilians where having. I mentioned it at this moment enough said.

Best moments of 2008:

Finally seeing Carol after 2 years. I thought it would be awkward and our friendship was in the pits, but apparently not. In fact it seemed like things were almost better for some reason. Anyways it was awesome seeing her again.

Seeing my brother after 3 years and realising how friggen tall he has gotten!

Worst moments of 2008:

I won’t dwell on those….

2008: Good riddance too you!

I have a feeling 2009 will be better. Therefore I have decided to compile a a list of resolutions or goals for the coming year.

1. Let go of my frustrations and resentment. I keep it in until I explode into
   a) A flaming ball of bitchiness
   b) A red hot glowing Melissa
   c) A scarlety monster.
2. Work on my indecisiveness. Learn to make a decision because I want to make it, not because I want everyone to be happy with it or because I feel responsible to people it may affect. I’ve already done a lot of this to the point it embarrasses me.
3. Move out on my own.
4. Work on my relationship with my mom and brother.
5. Read:
   a) Something random, that I normally wouldn’t read or haven’t heard of.
   b) Something by Charles Dickens. I haven’t decided which book.
   c) Either 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea or Journey To the Centre of the Earth by Jules Verne
   d) The Time Machine by H.G. Wells.
   e) Ulysses by James Joyce
6. Finish Fizzy Lemonade by the end of the year. Maybe work on other stories?
7. Work at trying to get Song of the Superheroes finished.
8. Update my blog at least once or twice a week. I have a goal of 100 posts by 2010. I actually found half written blog entries that were never published. I've let some good ideas drift by too!
9. Get more exercise.
10. Try and save money and pay off debts.
11. De-clutter, donate or get rid of things I don’t need anymore. I’m a bloody pack rat.
12. Find my father and ask him his side of the story.
13. Repair relationships that were damaged.
14. Make new friends

Anyways, I hope I can stick to my very long list of resolutions or at least attempt some of them…

P.S. My fashion sense is just fine Jo! :P

Christmas shoppers ba humbug!

It’s hard to believe that a year ago, I was in Australia contemplating another Christmas without my family, constantly asked if I was going home for Christmas or why I wasn’t going home, etc… Now I am back in Canada, struggling to type this entry as my dog seems to have taken a liking to the computer.

Now Sydney has finally calmed down from trying to eat the mouse cursor on the screen and is lying on my lap keeping my legs warm, which is very useful on a day as cold as -30 with the wind chill.

It has also occurred to me that I am sitting at my computer, known T-Man in sight. Woot! I’ve officially banned him from it for awhile as:

A: He kind of ummm drools on it….
B: He hogs it on me and won’t let me back on it unless I am helping him on a part in a game he is having troubles on.
C: It turns him into a scarlety monster for some reason I haven’t figured out yet. Sorry but I don’t appreciate being hit because I tell him to get off.
D: And because I don’t quiet appreciate him using it without my permission or as soon as I get home from work and (I am barely in the front door!) it isn’t Hi Melissa how are you? It’s “Melissa computer?”

Anyways, on Saturday I successfully had my first breakdown. A customer was so mean to me that I actually cried.

It was all because this crabby feral looking lady didn’t want her son to see his Christmas presents and I was trying to help, but every time I thought I had it bagged enough she wanted another bag. (Yes because triple bagging is not an assault on the environment.) So I tried to help her but she is like no let me do it your holding the line up because there were at least 5 -6 behind her. She violently yanked at the bag I was holding and I accidentally said “You don’t have to be so grabby.” Then she went off her handle and insisted I was mouthing her off. The irony was she was mouthing me off. She was a fucking bitch! I admit I shouldn’t have said anything, but she didn’t have the right to flip out at me and then she ended her tirade with “I was trying to help you.” I managed to stay composed for three more customers and as soon as my line was cleared I burst into tears. It was embarrassing. Luckily another cashier from the front desk noticed and I sat and talked to the front end manager about what happened. I learnt that my quiet demeanour is advantageous because she found the bit about her mouthing me off hard to believe and I told other cashiers about it too and they said it was my job to bag the stuff I wasn’t doing anything wrong.

Then at the end of the line up I get a customer exactly like the first one, condescending, demanding and rude. I almost had it with people after her and I was about to go home or better yet hide under a large rock, but my manager asked me to stay an hour and half longer… I hate customers and sadly I actually wished bad things on a few customers. Nothing too evil mind you. Have people forgotten that I, the rest of the people I work with are human beings? ….guess not especially when I have heard customers refer to us as “workers.”

So….I attempted to avoid writing an angry type entry again, mostly about the trials and tribulations of being a cashier, but as you can see I have failed miserably. I could continue with the other half I was going to write, but I might get fired if they ever read my blog. Then I thought maybe I could write a Philis and Ashleigh used to be known as a Melissa and Carol story about them and meanwhile get out my frustrations in a humorous passive aggressive way. Then again I had this idea for a Christmas special, which I will draw on my negative experience and turn it into something positive for my friends and make light of the experience of being someone in the customer service industry.

I guess you could say customer service is the one profession that can turn me, as Joan would say “a red hot glowing Melissa.” I can’t wait for the Christmas shopping to be over…

P.S. Merry Christmas! I'll try to write more in the new year...

I'm Ingrid?

Your result for Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz...

You Are an Ingrid!

You are an Ingrid -- "I am unique"

Ingrids have sensitive feelings and are warm and perceptive.

How to Get Along with Me

• * Give me plenty of compliments. They mean a lot to me.
• * Be a supportive friend or partner. Help me to learn to love and value myself.
• * Respect me for my special gifts of intuition and vision.
• * Though I don't always want to be cheered up when I'm feeling melancholy, I sometimes like to have someone lighten me up a little.
• * Don't tell me I'm too sensitive or that I'm overreacting!

What I Like About Being an Ingrid

• * my ability to find meaning in life and to experience feeling at a deep level
• * my ability to establish warm connections with people
• * admiring what is noble, truthful, and beautiful in life
• * my creativity, intuition, and sense of humor
• * being unique and being seen as unique by others
• * having aesthetic sensibilities
• * being able to easily pick up the feelings of people around me

What's Hard About Being an Ingrid

• * experiencing dark moods of emptiness and despair
• * feelings of self-hatred and shame; believing I don't deserve to be loved
• * feeling guilty when I disappoint people
• * feeling hurt or attacked when someone misundertands me
• * expecting too much from myself and life
• * fearing being abandoned
• * obsessing over resentments
• * longing for what I don't have

Ingrids as Children Often

• * have active imaginations: play creatively alone or organize playmates in original games
• * are very sensitive
• * feel that they don't fit in
• * believe they are missing something that other people have
• * attach themselves to idealized teachers, heroes, artists, etc.
• * become antiauthoritarian or rebellious when criticized or not understood
• * feel lonely or abandoned (perhaps as a result of a death or their parents' divorce)

Ingrids as Parents

• * help their children become who they really are
• * support their children's creativity and originality
• * are good at helping their children get in touch with their feelings
• * are sometimes overly critical or overly protective
• * are usually very good with children if not too self-absorbed

Take Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz at

Centre of my Universe

Fine I admit I have been gone a long time, but what is it to you?

I haven’t had the initiative to write for anyone but myself, things I don’t feel like sharing. I mean I have been writing, just not on my blog because a lot of the things I want to write about lately is about things that are bothering me and I am not sure a public space is where it belongs. To who it is directed too needs to hear it, but it probably won’t happen yet till my “backbone” grows back or the timing is right.

Anyways….

Work could be used as a valid excuse for this absence as well. Saturday was terribly busy. Especially now that the dreaded Christmas season is upon me. I hate the Christmas season. Not the actual holiday for what its stands for, but the business side of it. They should call it Commercial-Christmas. It would be entirely more fitting. It’s a bunch of crap. Non stop money driven, who cares about what it was all about in the first place type holiday! It was the same thing at Big W too. What good will towards others? Giving because you truly want too, not because some holiday out of the year has been designated to do so? All I see is a bunch of impatient people buying presents to give to those they love (I do give them credit for that), with money, which lets face it they probably DON’T have and treating people where I work(ed) like crap because they are all stressed out. Oh poor them.

To that I say Christmas? CHRISTMAS?! BUHUMBUG! Rah! Yes I am turning into a scrooge.

I can see it now I become the scrooge of retail and on Christmas Eve I’ll be visited by three retail Christmas shopping ghosts. The ghost of Christmas shopping past sales records, the ghost of Christmas customer service present and The ghost of Christmas preparing you for Christmas shopping future/ Boxing Day of all insanity.

Anyways, I am thinking of either

A: Making Christmas presents.
B: Buying presents online
C: Buying gift cards and letting them deal with it!
D: All of the above.

This Christmas will hopefully be less lonely because it’s the first one I’ve had with them in 3 years. I had my friends and all but it just wasn’t the same. I don’t really care if I get presents this year. I’m happy just spending time with family and with the many misfits my mom has apparently invited. So far on her list 2 pregnant old lady men, one of which, who doesn’t like people doing the laundry in the laundry room provided for the residents of this complex, another a friendly p.o.l.m. who wears a red hat and thinks that everyone are slaves to rich people. Then two other older ladies one of them a next door neighbour downstairs named, who bangs on the floor downstairs frequently and coming up to tell us to turn down music that isn’t playing in our place, but next door. The other is a nice lady at the bus stop whose who has arthritis in her hands and keeps asking if there are apartments for rent where I live. Then of course mom’s special needs friend, a fifteen year old girl trapped inside a 50 year olds body, who is entirely draining, but has a good heart. Now that’s Christmas, putting aside differences and reaching out to others who are either a pain in the ass or people you frequently talk too on the bus.

So what else have I been up too since….over a month!

Not much,

Work!

Readings some books

Mom

Tony

Ignoring my writing

Mom and Tony

The occasional story idea, that I forget to write down. Curse me!

Mom and Tony

Sydney, he is so cute!

Mom and Tony

Sydney, all he wants to do is play with me.

Mom and Tony

Mom and Tony

Mom and Tony

I sprained my pinkie finger!

Mom and Tony

Mom and Tony

Mom and Tony

I burned myself with soup one night in an unmentionable place. It really hurt.

Mom and Tony

Mom and Tony

Mom and Tony

Mom and Tony

Work!

And finally…

Mom and Tony…who knew?

My centre of my universe has become seriously out of whack.

It used to be writing, friends the reading of and occasional good book, university and unfortunately my financial and personal woes, which I dumped unnecessarily on people and I apologise if I did. I never realised how annoying it is.

This whole idea of the centre of the universe came about during a discussion with one of my moms friends. She believes everyone has one. And it is something so important to the individual that it truly shows. Strangely it feels as if everyone in my family including my dog seems to believe whether unintentionally or intentionally, in the case of Sydney I am probably understandably the centre or his universe; that I cater to their universal centres. Something I find entirely frustrating. I just want someone not in there universe to add to mine, that I can talk too in person whilst I am in this dastardly transition period. I know I have friends, but they are so far away.

Anyways I am sorry I have been gone so long, but now I hope I am back to the blogging world more regularly again.

P.S. Tony has frequently taken over my computer!

I believe in God

This entry is somewhat inspired by Amy’s many blog post on religion, but mostly about the religiously confounding themed dreams I have been having the past year or so. I guess I figured it was finally time I added my experience with God and religion.

Perhaps I should start by saying I have been confused by religion since I was young. First I was Mormon, then I was Seventh Day Adventist, then I was Mormon again, then I was a somewhat of an atheist, then agnostic, then I thought of maybe being Mormon again, that was until I considered Buddhism, but that was before I decided that I believe in God so the previous was kind of pointless and now my mom (intentionally or unintentionally I am not quite sure) is trying to convert me into a Baptist. They should have frequent flier miles for people who can’t make up their mind spiritually because I think I would have a lot of them. I’ve come to the conclusion as of now that I believe in God or a higher power, but I don’t believe in church or an organized way of believing in God if that makes sense. There is just too much evidence in my life that proves what I believe.

I don’t know if my mom accepts that. She says that I am probably going through the same thing she went through with not believing and what not, but I am not her, and I consider my situation to be different. My mom just won’t leave it alone, she says she is not pressuring me, but she is, just differently that Sue-Woman was. Both said similar things. “Going to church makes me happy and gives me a good special feeling and I want to share that with you. I want you to have that same feeling too.” Never mind the fact that I am perfectly happy to go on believing in God in my own way and I don’t try to push my beliefs on others. They can believe what they want. I don’t care, what works for me may not work for others and that includes the whole church thing.

My religious confusion has showed up in many of my dreams. Dreams I have never decided to share with anyone till now. I used to dream since I was 14 or so that the devil, which I never physically see is dragging me through my bed down to hell and I all I see is blackness. I now understand that it may be a sign of my depression growing up. But I digress. I immediately pray to God for help and I reach out for hands to grab. I struggle with it. I demand for help almost. Then hands that I never see reach out to me. For ages I could never reach until I willed myself to do it. Sometimes I am brought out high above the floor in my room towards heaven, but I lose grip or evil hands grabs me again and I fall back to earth. There is always some tug of war between the good and evil hands grabbing me. One time a ghost grabbed me to save me and the other time it was invisible person of some sort. Another time it was an angel and this time I even saw light and then I realized it was now no longer an angle but a giant butterfly dragging me through a beautiful mystical forest.

Then a few months before I returned to Canada, I dreamt I was walking up a long hill on a beautiful sunny day. I then thought I believe in God and Jesus and that he died for my and everyone’s sins and I believe the world will end one day. I felt kind of fearful. Then moments later I heard a loud trumpeting noise. I look to my left and Jesus is in the clouds. I was terrified, mostly because Jesus looked like he was pissed off with me.

Then last night I finally saw the hands good strong ones, which turned out to be Jesus. I told God I wanted to go to heaven and this time I made it there. I was kind of indifferent about meeting him. I wasn’t too happy or excited. He looked like the Jesus in paintings, but something seemed off. Sometimes I could see him clearly with a heavenly white light and other times he looked kind of normal. He never seemed emotive either. I desperately wanted to see the scars on his hands for some reason and I was constantly denied this no matter how hard I tried to look. Then I met God, but I couldn’t see him only feel his presence. God spoke, but most of the time I couldn’t hear him all I felt was a strong powerful roaring sensation. It felt like my ears were going to rip apart every time he spoke. I desperately wanted to talk to God. In my dream God told me that I wouldn’t remember most of the dream, which ironically I don’t. I told God that I believed in him and Jesus to which he seemed or I felt he was pleased to hear. However, he became angry when I asked him where he came from and why he created us. I got the impression it was not a question to ask. I even discussed Douglas Adams with him and some of the themes in his book the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy to which God said it was a bunch of crap and the answer was not 42.

Soon Jesus showed me around heaven and he gave me a list of every movie I had watched that had guns or violence in them, which was 314. He then said the book that was being written about me was still in progress and I am forbidden to look at it. Jesus appearance constantly kept changing. The only thing that stayed the same was he was wearing white.

Then the dream got weird when God sent me back in time to make sure Jesus died on the cross for humanities sins because someone somehow tampered with the events in time and stopped it from happening. When I was sent back to the biblical times it looked like modern times and I was following Jesus everywhere to try and convince him of what he had to do, but he wouldn’t listen too me.

So anyways I was wondering if anyone had any insight to these dreams because they seriously confuse me. I would write more but my mom wants the dang computer back.

P.S. Sydney’s vendetta against Douglas Adams cost me $8. I had to replace the library book he ate. The End!

Pictures and my puppy wuppy.

Hello world of possible readers and friends,

I kept wondering where I would get pictures of my cute little puppy and then it occurred to me mom took pictures. Therefore I have a few to show thanks to my mom’s magical happy fun camera.

Me at the community garden in July.


Sydney!

A picture Tony took. I thought it was cool.

Sydney and Weiser (mom's dog)

Tony and Sydney

The past few days have been entirely strange and stressful.

First off I found out my brother has been diagnosed with severe scoliosis, which is the curving of the spine. It’s not good.

Then I had a debunkle with Wal-Mart and McDonalds, which I think I have explained to death!

Good old Sydney. What is there to say about him? He is annoying. He loves socks and underwear, so much in fact my mom was carrying a pair to the laundry basket and he attempted to steal her underwear from her hands. He constantly nips at poor Wieser’s heals, but Wieser is too nice to do anything except the occasional passive aggressive snarl. Sydney also chewed up a library book. (I guess he doesn’t like Douglas Adams.) Then he got into my purse and chewed up my watch strap. The only thing that keeps Sydney out of trouble is the fact that he is cute and it’s hard to stay mad at him and he inspired a character in Fizzy Lemonade, who also uses his cuteness as a scapegoat. In fact the character is so cute he becomes Officer Octogenarian’s rival in a contest to find the most beautiful cutest sentient being in the universe. I hope to have a new chapter of Fizzy Lemonade up soon by the way.

I will write more when I can think of something more productive to mention.

P.S. My dog ate a bunch of my cough candies.

The death of the author is birth of the reader!

I decided that I since I have deprived people of my new works long enough and the endless promising to write more. I shall share a bit of Fizzy Lemonade that I have written lately.

“Ashleigh, Ashleigh, terrible news!” says Roland, a black Labrador, with an adorable yet annoying smiley type face.
“What?” Ashleigh replies.
“Our Author friend has died,” Roland whined. “You know Sarah Evans. I saw her book published this morning you know that means she has passed on to writer heaven. You know the system of signs, the place all great writers go.”
“What?” Ashleigh repeats, dumbfounded.
“Sarah’s an author,” says Barthes, his Husky companion. Husky as in the dog not husky as in husky, but you know the breed of dog…
“Ummm why is that terrible?” Ashleigh asks.
“Well if she’s an author she is dead!” Roland remarks. “DEAD!”
“Yes and I she must be pregnant too,” Barthes adds.
“There is also a big baby boom too!” Roland says.
“Let me guess they are all readers,” says Ashleigh. “You do realise that an author’s death is only metaphorical.”
“What?” says Barthes.
“Sarah isn’t dead,” says Ashleigh. “She was merely the first reader. Readers are the ones that say what a book is about. Therefore there are no author only readers and the author therefore enters a symbolic death.”
“I don’t understand!” says Roland.
“Sarah’s isn’t dead,” says Ashleigh. “It’s to do with the system of signs. Language doesn’t belong to the author. It belongs to everyone. Therefore there can be no authors anyways only interpreters.”
“But she is an author not an interpreter!” says Barthes. “Authors die. Interpreters work at pregnant old lady man conferences and translate old Fergarianese.”
“And then readers are born,” Roland continues. “But when they become an author they die.”
“You’re misconstruing an entire theory,” says Ashleigh.
“So are you coming to the funeral?” asks Barthes, completely ignoring Ashleigh’s common sensical answers.
“AN ENTIRE THEORY!” Ashleigh bellows.
“You’re are so disrespectful,” Roland growls. “Have you know respect for authors?”
“She is being disrespectful to authors,” a lonely dejected voice in the background calls. “Lets get her!”
“Yeah! Good idea lets get her!” says Barthes.
Ashleigh is suddenly chased down the dirty alley way by a black American cocker spaniel, a black and white Shiatsu Terrier of all cuteness, (both of which are important enough to be named later as nothing of ill will is intended towards them) and the aforementioned Roland and Barthes, who are coincidentally named after the crazy French guy Roland Barthes who actually conceived the idea, that was misinterpreted by the two of Ashleigh’s pursuers.

(c) Copyright 2008 by Melissa McKenna no part of this may be reproduced with out written permission.

What do you think?

So what has happened since I last wrote…

Well I am still couch bound for starters, but I am getting used to the vegetable-onion couch as I like to call it.

I have a cold or some sort of something that is making me sick. Urgh! Although, I was particualrily pleased I could have the cough (lollies) candy I like. They didn’t have the brand I liked back in Australia…

I miss Australia.

Winter has arrived and I am not ready. I am barely acclimatised as it is!

I now work at Wal-Mart. Satisfaction is Guaranteed Always! I have less hours here so I am officially going to devote myself to my writing when I am not working. It’s not that bad to be a cashier. I mean you say hello you scan, scan, scan take the payment and say goodbye. The End! Oh yes and the Wal in Wal-Mart is short for Walton as in Sam Walton the company’s creator.

McDonalds probably thinks I am passive aggressive, which I think I am too.

My dog Sydney has a new obsession, the computer keyboard. He was sitting on my lap last night and he kept trying to type stuff with his floppsy white paws and/or licking my fingers. I put him on the ground but he kept jumping up to sit with me. Maybe he missed me while I was at work? You know your life is boring when you write about your dog. He attempting to sabotage this blog entry as I write this.

My birthday is in 10 days! My mom and I are going to the pub across from where we live for a meal and a celebratory drink! Woot!

P.S. Sydney likes noses too!

3 things (and then some) that have happened since my last entry...

The number 3 has been popping up a lot lately.

I have 3 best friends…I am not naming names…

I’ve crashed on 3 different couches.

I was hired by 3 places whilst in Lethbridge.

I lost my dog 3 years ago and now I have a new one.

Things have definitely changed in many more ways since I’ve come back to Canada.

I turned on the Price is Right the other day and instead of Bob Barker, like I was expecting it was Drew Carey. I kept thinking “what the f*&^@ happened to Bob Barker?” Go figure he retired after 35 years in 2007. Where was I when this all happened? Oh right I was in Australia.

Australia….

I miss it a lot.

I miss Bob Barker. I used to watch him when I came home from school for lunch when I was in grade five. Sometimes I’d feign being sick so I could watch the second half. Strange I know. I wanted to see who one the grand prize. I have no idea why but I really liked the show.

Things have been going OK now, despite the fact that I am without a room. I am sleeping on the couch. I am the mercy of my mom’s night owlness. She doesn’t go to bed and she sits there till 12 a.m. or a later peeling onions, chopping onions, chopping potatoes, carrots… the list goes on. She is either dehydrating or canning the vegetables from her garden. I think she has done quite well. The house smells of onions mind you and so does the couch, but I live with it. It’s my own fault. You see when I ran away to Lethrbridge. My mom gave the second bedroom back to Tony, now I would feel bad if I kicked him out again. So for now I am couch bound until I find my own place or my mom changes her mind. The second may be happening you never know. Although I am not sure I want the room it smells like dehydrated onions and dog pee. The dang dogs go where ever they want and they have this doggy like fascination with my brother’s room. Sydney my dog is getting better slowly and my mom used vinegar to get some of the smell out.

I have been in a grouchy mood. I guess it’s a bit better than the previous feeling of depression. I really don’t like working in fast food. I had the opportunity to get away from it but because of 50 cents difference in pay. I screwed it up. I still feel bad about that.

So I wonder did I ever like working at McDonalds beforehand? I seem to really hate it now. Here is some evidence of my distain…

“Today was a good day. I am finally done with McDonalds. I
slacked off too. This is the last time I have to hear a manager rag on me to do
something. Usually I do something after all I am paid too but, it was my last
day and all I kind of just felt like it.
Manager: "Melissa find someting to do." or "I am sure there is lots to do"

Me: "OK." *continues to do nothing.* Talks to crew member also doing nothing, but not getting in trouble. Grr.. the irony eh?

Me thinking: What are they going to do fire me. Ha ha.

It feels weird. Today will be the last day I have to put
breakfast parts away, sit in drive thru and sadly the last time I will see my
friends. No more till, no more angry customers, I am glad to be gone. This is my
last fast food job I want out of the
industry.”

- February 15, 2006

Oh wells I might not have to be there much longer. I just got hired at Wal-Mart. It is pretty much the equivalent of Big-W with a bit of Woolworths jammed into it as they have some grocery items. Is this weird I miss working at Big W? I won’t go into my opinions on the company. Amy probably knows what I think of it. Anyways, who cares it is a better job than nothing. Not that I am unhappy to be employed. It’s better than the luck I was having back in Australia. I also think it’s ironic because the Wal in Wal-Mart I think is sort of Walter. One of my characters is named Walter…I find that entirely coincidental.

Australia….

I really miss it.

I think I already mentioned that, but I think that’s where some of my sadness is derived from. Not only that but my massive debts. The government is mad at me because I am behind in three payments. Yikes! I want to tell them go away I am will pay you but I have no money to do that at the moment. Now on top of this I am sick. I have a cold and then I found out I had a stomach virus of some kind. How annoying. I was told to take a couple of days off of work something I can’t afford to do.

Right now my dog Sydney is quite the character. He keeps trying to hump my leg. He goes after my underwear and bras. I think he has a lingerie fetish as well as a foot fetish. I swear he won’t leave my feet or anything related to feet alone. I constantly say “my feet are not your chew toy.” Mom says the same thing. Then not to long ago this cranky pre menopausal pregnant old lady woman accused Sydney of doing the dastardly deed of impregnating her ugly terrier because she has seen another black and white dog roaming around. Little does she know he is still too young to know what it is meant for, he is five months old so he is just coming into his puppy sexuality if that’s what you want to call it and he seems more interested in himself or boy dogs, particularly Hev-Lady’s dog Weiser. I am not saying he is that way, but I won’t be surprised if Nigel does an outing on him. Oh yes he doesn’t leave the house on his own…so I know he is innocent of all claims against him. I hope I have a picture I can put up soon.

I want to write more of Fizzy Lemonade…I always get inspired when every I walk the dog for some reason. However, I keep dreaming about killer robots who shot at people they interpret to hate robots or the government or something. I had this long complicated dreams twice now. I told my mom and she pretty much demanded that I write it down, but I don’t really care about the robot story right now. I am sure if it was indeed a dingmare I will continue to dream about them or the idea will come back to me when I am ready to flesh it out more. As I am writing this the robots have identified themselves as characters and are deeply offended I don’t want to write at story about them…perhaps I will write the synopsis of my dreams. Then come back to it.

I thought it would go with my intended theme of three by talking about three different things but I think it was 6 or 7 oh wells.

P.S. Carol is feeling a bit sad lately and I am not sure how to cheer her up…

P.S.S. I can’t wait for the massive road trip in August!

Rough Transistion!!

It has suddenly occurred to me while sitting and playing video games on my computer in Edmonton bus terminal, with at least 4hours till I leave for Prince George B.C that I have neglected my blog for over an entire month. AN ENTIRE MONTH! Whoops sorry. I hope it’s not to late too

DATE UP! DATE UP! DATE UP! DATE UP! DATE UP! NOW! NOW! NOW! NOW! NOW!

Here is some of the reason for my absence the past month…

I am so depressed recently it’s only now that I feel like actually attempting a blog entry.

I am immensely frustrated!!!!

I was spending time with mom and brother.

And lets see painting doors and cleaning my grandfathers house he was renovating. I hope it burns to the ground.

My Aunty thinks I am condescending and rude.

My grandma, or should I say Sue-Woman has probably disowned me.

All because my mom got involved and sent some nasty e-mail about events previous and recently between my family and mom.

I guess to be frank, my life feels like it has turned to shit. My entire family has turned on me, except my mom of course. I have finally joined the ranks of pariah in my dysfunctional family. And the most of it has nothing to do with me. I am suffering for problems mostly between my mom and family. I know I am a part of it, but still why do I have to be?!

Scarily for a while there I thought of ending it all! I am not embarrassed to write that either. I am sure there are others who feel the same way at one time or another.

The only reason I am here is because of my three best friends 2 Amy and Chris who still e-mail me and let me know they care and Carol who helped me through the most trying time of my life to date, my mom despite some rough patches since I have been here and my little brother, who I immensely care about. These people and my all my friends are my family now. Fuck the rest of them!

Anyways, I digress, a lot has happened in this time period. This entry may get a little depressing. DEPRESSING! Because lets face it I am depressed and this is not about attention seeking of anything like that I am just stating a fact.

I went to B.C to live with my mom after Australia. 20 hour flight, 23 hour bus ride…

My mom gave me a puppy named Sydney. He is cute and I apparently he was used as emotional bate as if!!!

Saw my brother for the first time in 3 years and suddenly realised how much he has changed. Holy crap has he gotten tall.

Played Lego with my brother, my mom ended up destroying our creations accidentally I assume, well it was in the way.

Things were going OKish until almost almost a month later due to unforeseen circumstances, which I will not discuss on a public space…(most of my friends know what happened anyways). I went to Alberta partly because of the unforeseen event and partly because of pressure from Sue-Woman. Sue-Woman, who I can’t quite decide yet if I see as a grandma anymore…I could go on about her right now…but I won’t. Besides only three people believe me about what happened.

Now two weeks later I am going back to B.C. to live with my mom because of pressures and stress from Sue-Woman. I managed to get a job at the old McDonalds I worked at and Zellers a department store in which Carol works at. I turned down Zellers much to the (rightfully so) dissatisfaction of Carol I’ll write more about her in a minute. However, here is the big part. I had no accommodation because stupid students, came in August and took most of the places and the cheaper places where in the dodgy parts of town. And, AND this is a big one, Sue-Woman said she’d help me but then she turned around and didn’t because the place I found was too expensive and she didn’t think I should be living on the West Side. So it was either stay with Carol and her sister for a while and possibly get them evicted because I wasn’t suppose to be staying there for too long or stay in a woman shelter till I had enough money for damage deposit and rent in October.

For two wees let’s just say I was in the presense of a scarlety monster, being forced, FORCED to go to church and no where to live, which was constantly joked about as if it were some kind of joke. I was an emotional wreck. I also realised there error of my ways from the first incident…. The end…If I had a choice I’d would not go to either place I’d go home to Australia. Home, I’ve lost it. It’s as if I lost the love of my life. I want to go back so bad!

Then I got my old job at Burger King and McDonlads a week later. It felt so weird, like I was having an out of body experience. I felt like I shouldn’t be there for some reason.

Most of the friends agree with me in my decision and even if they didn’t it’s not there’s to make. Sue-Woman doesn’t agree, I think she might disown me too. She says I am making a big mistake…she doesn’t know I have left yet, at this point.What ever non-likingness between her and my mom is their problem, not mine, but I think I have ended up on the other side of Sue-Woman’s wrath, with my mom. I always wondered after Carol actually brought it up how can a person who isn’t even blood related have so much power and control over family affairs.

One word!

MONEY!

It’s the root of all evil.

The only good thing about coming back to Canada thus far has been seeing Mom, Tony and Carol. Carol is awesome. She seemed more positive at first, then some of the old habits I remembered so well surfaced…think Philis like behaviours. The only people I missed while away was Carol, Becky, Mom and Tony. I never missed Sue-Woman in fact I dreaded calling her and I felt even more depressed every time I had to add to the God Damn Fucking “Tally!!!” Lump sum payment my ass. She can disinherit me!

P.S. More positive entries will come soon!

The Adventure ends but the A.E.S.M continues.

“What is the A.E.S.M?” asked John.
“I thought you would never ask,” said Amelia. “It is the Alien
Ethnic Society and Melissa.”
“Umm… OK said John.
“Hey who are these morons?” said Wild Will.
The two members of the A.E.S.M., one a cynical Russian Canadian, the other and eccentric Eurasian Australian stare blankly at Wild Will. How odd thought the Russian Canadian girl.
“Oh forgive me for being rude,” said Amelia. “That there is Melissa, we call her Gandhi and that is Chris, we call him Tori Pocoshrew.”
“How’s it going eh?” said Melissa.
“Nooninooninooninoo,” said Chris.
“There is another member, Antonia but she is not here,” said Amelia.
“Oh what, did Wild Will eat her?” said John sarcastically.
“No she is a distance member,” said Melissa.

- In search of a name (You’re So Amy I bet you Think This Story Is
About You!) June 2006

As promised here is an entry about some of the most important people in my life also known as the A.E.S.M.

I remember the day the A.E.S.M. (The Alien Ethnic Society and Melissa). (sometimes also referred to as the A.E.S.M…also Kate) was formed over two years ago for some reason I don’t remember. Perhaps it was a formation of our long lasting iconic friendship. It’s an iconic name and group, whose activities and adventures I remember frequently through out my time. I consider the A.E.S.M to be one of the most significant things about my visit to Australia. I remember our special group to be a time of creativity, the stories I wrote, the movies we made and of bonding, the Rockhampton Show and our random meetings at shopping fair and the uni library.

This is how I first described the A.E.S.M over two years ago.

“Ah yes the A.E.S.M. The Alien Ethnic Society and Melissa.
Chris and Amy came up with it, the reason is Chris is Eurasian, Amy is
Italian…actually she is part South Sea Islander I think, Antonia is from Hong
Kong and I am from Canada. Chris reckons we should find an organization to
support. Are symbol would be a picture of me as Ghandi. Hmm… I have interesting
friends. I don’t think I will meet anyone like them ever again. It must have
been fate that I ended up here in Australia. I think tomorrow when I am not so
tired I will draft rules for the club just for the heck of it.”
- June, 2
2006.

The original members were:

Amy: One of my best friends here in Australia. We can talk about anything. I still have no way of explaining my inspiration to talk about Bollywood, one of her many obsessions with her that one day because it’s not something I usually talk about or really have a profound interest in, although I do like it. The time I have spent with her felt like we had been friends for years. It hardly occurred to me that she lived in Canberra for most of it. Carol said I had it coming because I abandoned her, but I knew straight away our friendship was different. I always looked forward to seeing her again, because every time she came back she had changed so much and but she always felt like the same Amy I always knew, like we had never really been apart for months at a time. I always felt like I had grown more whenever I came into her midst. We partied both New Years here the second one surely showed how much we changed. I still remember the day she left for Canberra. She is a beautiful person and I will really miss her when I am back in Canada.

Chris: He is seriously my muse. Half the stuff in Superheroes was developed just by random musing, brainstorming talking about ideas and strange conversations that know one understood but us and seemed to confound those that happened to over hear it except for Amy. I remember talking about my writing efforts with Chris at least once or twice every time I saw him and quite frequently through text messages and msn. Sometimes it was the only thing we talked about, whether it was Carol stories, Wild Will, or Song of the Superheroes. I also let him be the first to see certain bits of stories as his input and approval were highly important. I still remember the first thing Chris said to me. “You’re from Canada. Alanis Morissette is my idol.”

My all time favourite quote from Chris was just after the Rockhampton Show in 2006 and we were waiting for pizza and he suddenly said “When I have a child I’ll name it Melissa…if it’s a boy.” Everyone in the car burst out laughing. Chris is the only that can make me laugh till I cry. I’ve lost track how many times that has happened now.

My favourite memory was when we played Monopoly and randomly named all the pieces after Song of the Superheroes characters. All I remember is the money bags was Philis because it is fat, the iron was Sarah because it symbolised what a woman is supposed to do and the car was Officer Octogenarian because it was sleek and stylish. I wish I had written the others down. Chris also came to believed he corner powers whenever we played Monopoly.

All my flatmates most likely think that I am obsessed with Chris and Amy as I used to talk about them all the time. I always thought and truly believed that they were the coolest. My current flatmate Justine thought I was hyping Chris up before she met him. She said. Surely no one could be that cool, but I met him and he was. Well of course you think I would lie about a thing as important as coolness. I’ll miss him heaps too.

Antonia: Sadly, I’ve lost contact with her now. However, the time spent with her was memorable. I remember how she used to say “sure, sure.” Amy, Chris and I would often say how beautiful she was. My favourite memory of Antonia was the first of the A.E.S.M. productions of A Flat To Myself in which she died by poison lemonade.

Kinwai: He always stuck me as someone who is really quiet. I never really talked to him much, but I liked him. I remember how he used to come and meet Antonia after Media Ethics and collect 10 cent pieces for her. Amy and I used to say that he obviously really liked her you could just tell.

Kate: I’ve lost contact with Kate over the past year, but the time we did spend together was fun. Especially when we filmed Flat to Myself 2: How Convenient and our random clubbing escapades with Chris. We also used to discuss Superheroes but differently.

And of course me which is pretty self explanatory.

Others have become honorary members

P.S. Wild Will

And some significant rules have been broken (more about that later.)

The original rules of the A.E.S.M. were…

AESM (Alien Ethnic Society and Melissa)
Statement of Principles and Guidelines

1. This is
the most important rule: Friends are first always. This principle out weighs all
guidelines
2. Joan is not allowed into the AESM, under no circumstances, if
allowed in. It shall be called AESEM Alien Ethnic Society Excluding Melissa.
Posters shall be made to accompany this rule.
3. No Americans aloud, unless
they are nice and they know Canadians don’t live in igloos, are lumberjacks or
use dog sleds as a mode of transportation. Melissa gets very offended when they
think this.
4. Martians are ok, they can join anytime
5. “Eh” is a
Canadian word :)
6. Believe in the principles set forth by Gandhi, looking
up on him and his life is essential.
7. You must be ethnic in origin being
from a city or town doesn’t count.
8. Learn the secret handshake and goodbye
salute, which is currently in the developmental stages
9. Being a distant
member is allowed, but keeping in contact with you ASEM friends while abroad is
very important or you will be deemed an inactive member. No one likes them.
Mwhahahaha!
10. Bollywood is an excellent form of entertainment
11. You
must like Alanis Morissette or at least some of her songs.
12. Wild Will is
Melissa’s imaginary dog hero. You must not make fun of this, you also read all
stories.

Principle 9 has been the most consistent and now that I am going to be even more distant from the A.E.S.M . I think it as well as The first one on the list is the most important.

The most significant rules to be broken were Principle 5 I hardly every say Canadian words anymore, Principle 8 no secret handshake was every developed although we did share secret wisdom and friendship, and most importantly….

Principle 2! No Joans allowed, blah, blah you know the rest. Chris even memorised it.

It was sadly created at a time when I was in the midst of a love hate relationship with Joan. Not to mention one sided as I was the one who drafted and created these principles and guidelines. Since this time, I come to be good friends with Joan despite the rocky start and some strange pointless arguments later. She is really the only friend that I argue with the most and the only one that can get a rise out of me. Sometimes we don’t see eye to eye and for some reason I turn into a scarlety monster or as Joan put it ‘a down right bitch.’ Which let’s face it I can be. For some reason Joan is the only one who can push my buttons and is allowed to anger me and get away with it. Chris once said that I like Joan but on my own terms. She made for some interesting stories, like the one time she made me eat lemon me-rang pie of the floor. Her annoyingness is one of her many eccentric and dazzling characteristics that I have come to tolerate and I am not sure if I like sometimes, despite people (I am not naming anyone) telling me I shouldn’t be friends with her. (Everyone is entitled to there own opinions.)And because she is an important person in my life it’s fitting that this principle should be changed or altogether eliminated, but I want to leave it for ironies sake. Principle 2 has been broken Joan can be a member of the A.E.S.M. Seeing as it’s all about friendship and not exclusion. I made a new rule that contradicts it and to eliminate the exclusionary principle altogether. I apologise for this rule and I apologise to Joan if she ever felt excluded from our group or uninvited. So you can be rest assured that it will still be the A.E.S.M. and not the A.E.S.E.M. unless you count me leaving for Canada? In which case the second name would be very fitting, but in completely different circumstances. So here it is.

Lucky Principle 13: Guidelines can be changed to suit circumstances. For example Principle 2 which was undeniably harsh and exclusionary.

I guess you could say it’s the new A.E.S.M. It’s out with the old and in with the new.

P.S.: Wild Will Rocks

Another highlight of the A.E.S.M. is the stories written and inspired by it’s members old and new. Five stories well (six if you count the last chapter in the second series of Wild Will vs. The A.E.S.M stories) were written specifically about members, tailored to their eccentricities or things that we joked about. In total there were nine stories, littered with off centred humour, inside jokes, meanness regrettably towards certain non-members and most importantly Wild Will, Amy’s cult figure and ‘my imaginary dog hero.’

They were:

In search of a name (You’re So Amy I bet you Think This Story Is About You!)

A Flat to Myself…(You’re so Chris… I bet you think this story is
about you.)

Antonia French and the 12 Dozen Singing Dogs(You’re so
Antonia I bet you think this story is about you.)

The Horror of
Love…(You’re so Kinwai…this story is definitely not about you.)

Wild
Will and Melissa the Writer vs. Justin and Joan P.S. Ruthless Roy

A
Multimedia of Problems Part 1: The created turns on the creator

A
Multimedia of Problems Part 2: It’s all in the name

A
Multimedia of Problems Part 3: You’re so Kate…this story IS about you!

Then of course I can go with out mentioning Song of the Superheroes.

“Melissa! I want to be in a different story,” said Wild
Will. “Write me in a different one or I will eat you.”
“What is a Kate
featured story not good enough for you?” Chris asked.
Melissa writes a
paragraph or two in her notebook about Wild Will. She then shows it to Wild
Will.
“A cameo appearance?” said Wild Will. “Whose idea was this?”
“Amy’s,” said Melissa.
- A Multimedia of Problems Part 3: You’re so Kate…this story IS about you!

I guess you could say Wild Will needed a bigger place to run a muck, being the wanker of a Rottweiler he is. I don’t know if it can be directly related, but Song of the Superheroes never would have been if it weren’t for my friends in the A.E.S.M who gave me the inspiration. Scarily I had a whole plan to turn the A.E.S.M. stories into a novel called What is the Meaning of this Madness?! Now I know that it wasn’t meant to be but these nine stories were actually preludes to something much bigger and very special to me, my first ever novel. Not to mention my favourite offbeat character I created three years before I came to Australia arrived in a proper story Song of the Superheroes and he will be a fully fledged main character in the sequels to come. This is all because of the A.E.S.M.

P.S. Wild Will Rocks My Socks

One thing I remember specifically that involved the original four members of the A.E.S.M. was the Flat To Myself franchise. Sometimes when it rains I think about it, Antonia coming out of the fridge, Amy being impaled by a scrub brush, (I am so taking that brush back to Canada! :P) Chris being Chris and me being a narrating ghost. I think about the sequel especially when I was procrastinating for a big assignment the next day, (as it was made the day before I had two assignments due.) I reminisced about Kate and her basket ball throwing and Chris, with the pictures of Antonia (which I think was a heart) and Amy (a pair of boobies) on the brick wall shouting strange things at it while banging at the pictures with a knife. And who could forget the phrase “She has lottery tickets!” or the girl with three voices Melora, Wild Will and Carol.

I’ll miss the time I spent with the A.E.S.M. more than I will miss Australia. I missed everyone before they even left, yet somehow it still hasn’t sunk in. I have nothing but fond memories of the A.E.S.M.

P.S. Props go to Joan for her idea about the red cordial in Song of the Superheroes, which was my favourite scene and oddly was titillating for someone else to read. Hmmm…I had Doritos for lunch.

Surprise entry.

Surprise! I updated today!

I guess I shouldn’t be slightly embarrassed when a Brazilian in the computer lab says I am very beautiful?

What could be the most random thing to happen at the moment? How about a Brazilian named Wagner who adds you to msn but talks to you in Portuguese and when that fails translates it on Babel Fish so it is still a bunch of gibberish to me? This has happened more than once. I find it quite random. I don’t speak Portuguese, he doesn’t speak English. I don’t see how any kind of relationship is possible with the language barrier. Not unless one of us learns the language. I don’t see myself learning Portuguese in the near future, although I am particularly interested in French for some reason. Anyways he wants to make kissy with me and I don’t. THE END!

I guess my many encounters with Brazilians can go into my stock pile of memories of my time in Australia.

I still remember a 36 year old Brazilian saying to me. “I dream of you at night! I am 36 I like 23.”

Ewwww!!!

And my new favourite quotes so far.

“How you this my angel?”

“It would like to call you pra to go in boate, q you only goes to travel.”

“If some day you will have time, you encina me the English?”

“What it was with you?”

“You this gripada?”

When I showed Joan this her response was wtf, along with various lol’s.

I don’t know why but I find this slightly amusing. He just doesn’t get it. Here is a sampling of the msn conversation.

Wagner: It would like to give a kiss today to you!
Me thinking: Oh dear God!
Me: I have girl friend.
Wagner: I no understand.
Me: I don't want to kiss. I am saving my kisses for my future boyfriend back in Canada who happens to be a girl.”
Wagner: No understand!
Then two minutes later.
Wagner: I am very happy for you.
Me thinking: What the?
Me: Thank you why?
Wagner: Very pretty e a person to have confidence in the other and to be faithful
Another two minutes later…
Wagner: you would like to find somebody as one day!

Oh wells this has given me the silly Melissa giggles. THE END!

P.S. I changed a rule in the A.E.S.M. Rule 13. Lucky 13. Rules can be changed to suit circumstances. For example rule # 2 which was undeniably harsh. Chris will understand what I mean.

P.P.S. I have a longer entry planned before I make leaving to Australia dedicated to the A.E.S.M. Hopefullly I sit down and write it.

The long awaited entry.

Long time no write. Chris made that point to me extra clear when he said to Amy and I on Monday morning in Shopping Fair that her and I are becoming a bit slack with blog entries.

“I keep checking your blogs and I keep seeing ‘Creature of Habit’ and ‘Goodbye Democrats’.

Joan remarked how she is updating more regularly.

Then Chris demanded once more.

“DATE UP! DATE UP! DATE UP! NOW! NOW! NOW!”

I don’t know why I have become slacker with the blog writing business. I could have blamed it on uni, but I did make a point in previous entries that I was writing purely for procrastination. Then it could have been work, but I only work six hours a week usually so I should have heaps of time to write something. I think I am just slack. I always seem to start my blog entries with ‘I haven’t written in a long time.’ Gosh gee wiz maybe I should stop stating the fricken obvious.

I have decided to share with you a story. I haven’t written one in ages. It’s a Philis story. Somewhat inspired by my literature courses I took. I might even put it into Fizzy Lemonade. :P Because Ashleigh has finally discovered her area of expertise in her nerd nerdy retardedness! I already showed Chris but I made more changes...

Ashleigh and Philis are sitting in the lounge room in a small rose coloured apartment, house sitting for Mrs. Lachlan’s Mum.

Philis: (Frantically) Ashleigh, Ashleigh!!!
Ashleigh: (Somewhat annoyed) Yes Philis?
Philis: I was reading..
Ashleigh: Did you just say you were reading?
Philis: Yes, surprised? You think I can read because my eyes our covered in fat?
Ashleigh: Yes actually.
Philis: What’s That’s terrible!!
Ashleigh: No I mean I am surprised you are reading! So what was your general complaint about the book?
Philis: Who said I was complaining?
Ashleigh: You always complain Philis.
Philis: Noooooooo I don’t the only thing I complain about is being fat, which I am. Is it not justifiable to complain about being fat? I wanted to tell you about this book which is ironically fat.
Ashleigh: OK….
Philis: You see this book by D.H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley’s Lover, but it’s boring it keeps going on about ‘the bitch goddess’ and how machines will take over the world and our turning away from nature.
Ashleigh: Well I guess you could say the book was a bit prophetic machines our common place. Wait your reading D.H. Lawrence?
Philis: Yes. By the way who is the bitch goddess? Is she fat complainer so people think she is fat, but she is beautiful like a goddess?
Ashleigh: I’m pretty sure that Officer Olds reference was in no ways literary related. Philis: Sooooo who is the bitch goddess Lawrence was always on about?
Ashleigh: Success, wealth! A common theme in modernist writing is the desire to return to nature.
Philis: Nooooo that’s stupid why did he just go live in a forest if loved nature so much?
Ashleigh: Philis you are talking about one of the more prolific authors of the modern era. These concerns were present in his time.
Philis: Modern era? It’s modern now.
Ashleigh: No many would say were in the area of postmodernism.
Philis: Nooooo that’s not what I want to argue about.
Ashleigh: I don’t even want to argue.
Philis: Well before you interrupted me with your nerd nerdy retarded weird girl words because you think I can’t read because I am fat.
Ashleigh: I didn’t say that. Although I am genuinely surprised and shocked that you are reading a book.
Philis: Stop interrupting me! As I was saying Lady Chatterley’s Lover was supposed to be about sexy times, but it hasn’t gotten to that bit yet. She and Mellor’s haven’t maked sexy and it goes on for ages. I got the chickens but it maded me hungry and I figured I must be angry because I am hungry because I am fat because fat people eat when they are angry or sad, mostly sad.
Ashleigh: You know Philis maybe you should stop eating your feelings. Anyways if you had finished reading the bit about the chickens you would have got to the sex scene. Oh yeah and there was sexy times with Michaelis that Irish playwright.
Philis: That doesn’t count because he can’t get it up. Like King Gorilla Man Boobs friend Captain Crazy Balding Monkey Man. Anyways if that counted as sexy times it would be Lady Chatterley’s Lovers…
Ashleigh: (Sighs) I see your point.
Philis: Shut up. You see nothing
Ashleigh: I read the book.
Philis: Nothing!
Ashleigh: OK I will clarify that again. I read the whole book. Not half way through to the part about the chickens.
Philis: Sooooooo what you think I can’t read a whole book! I can express my opinions about a book just because I am fat. I don’t just watch TV because I am fat. You think I can’t read because I am fat.
Ashleigh: I never said that!
Philis: Yes you indiscriminately did!
Ashleigh: No I didn’t fat ass!
Philis: Oh look it’s the chemist you are secretly in love with!
Ashleigh: (Runs to lounge window) WHERE!
Philis: (Throws book at Ashleigh)
SMACK!
Ashleigh: Owe that hurt you cow! What was that for?
Philis: That’s how much the book made my hurt! I was expressing a point.
Ashleigh: Some expression! Then why did you bother to read it then.
Philis: I thought it was about sex. And seeing as I can’t have sex I want to read about it.
Ashleigh: It is about sex. It takes a while for the good parts to come.
Philis: Ewwwww Ashleigh don’t make disgusting puns.
Ashleigh: I wasn’t….
Philis: Hmmmph!!! (Folds arms) I am going to read a different book Orlando. It’s about sex.
Ashleigh: A change in biological sex. Not actual sex.
Philis: Sooooo I find miraculous changes in biology to be interesting.
Ashleigh: Yeah well miraculous changes in biology determined you to be an idiot. If you don’t like D.H. Lawrence, you won’t like Virginia Woolf either.
Philis: Why not?
Ashleigh: Well for starters Orlando was written for her close friend Vita Sackville-West who was her lover. She was a saphist
Philis: A sapphire! Ashleigh, don’t be ridiculous!
Ashleigh: No you twat. She was that way! They were close friends, lovers.
Philis: What! I’m not that way!
Ashleigh: I know, I know, but if Nigel knew you were reading this particular book he’d say you were. He would use it as proof to say you are that way! You don’t want another editorial by him!
Philis: Noooooo I guess not!
Ashleigh: If you want to read about sex, try erotica. I am assuming was your intentions in the first place. Anais Nin. Just be warned that it’s a bit out there!
A short while later.
Philis: Ashleigh, Ashleigh! I just read The Delta of Venus by Anais Nin! It was the most digustingess book ever.
Ashleigh: I tried to warn you.
Philis: Shut up no you didn’t.

It seems like a couple of weeks ago that I arrived here in Australia. I doesn’t feel like two and a half years at all. I don’t think it has sunk in yet. Even when I hugged my friends goodbye. I feel like I will still be in Rockhampton waiting till they come in the summer.

It seems like yesterday when I got a going away card from my mom wishing me luck in “Aussie Land!” I kept it with me the whole time. I used to look at it when I was homesick sometimes or when I was feeling down for encouragement and inspiration. My mom always knows what to say to make me feel better, whether she realises it or not. All I know is I made her really proud, she emphasises that a lot with a lot of her cards and messages. Sue-Woman seemed a bit critical about her pride in me a bit, I felt like she accused her of living through me vicariously or that I was some sort of victory that my mom could claim because she is a single mom. I used to think that too, but now I realise that my mom has every right to feel the way she does whatever the reason. If it wasn’t for her encouragement and support I wouldn’t be here. Not to mention she gave birth to me.

I’ve done a lot of new and different things. Too many to list or to remember all at once. I’d have to do a whole entry in retrospective and that would take ages.

For starters the most recent would be eating kangaroo. I still remember my Canadian friend Becky’s shock when I told her that Aussies eat kangaroos. She was genuinely upset, but then I reminded her that Canadians eat deer, moose, caribou, etc.

I will have lots of stories to tell.

Like on of my favourite memories of when I went to Great Keppel Island with Amy. She and I were swimming in the ocean and then all of a sudden we saw our Indian friend Raj out on the beach. He looked as if he were naked. Amy and I began to freak out and plan our escape which appeared to be futile anyways because he was getting closer and closer. Luckily moments later it was discovered he was wearing flesh toned underwear. I still remember Amy’s exact words on Raj’s apparent nakedness. “The only man I want to see naked is my future husband!” I think I had the exact same sentiments. The rest of the day turned out to be awesome fun. In which I went camera happy, got sunburnt badly, (Amy apparently still feels bad about that one) and developed lasting memories and friendship.

I guess some highlights were Multimedia Guy, mainly the mythological status of him, writing Song of the Superheroes, New Years 2007, Jo’s random dinner parties, and my all time favourite memory Sydney with Chris and Amy.

Anyways I was in the do not approach mood earlier. (Actually still kind of am.) It seems like when I am in this frame of mind everyone approaches or talks to me God damn it. Then every little question or thing they say makes me even more mad. I tell them I am not in a good mood or frame of mind to communicate, but they just don’t get it. Some people are just thick as bricks or maybe I am just a bitch. I am bettering on the later.

Peach out! I meant to write peace out. But I think peach out should be my signoff on entries from not on followed by…the usual P.S. something, something, something....

P.S. I am stressed to the max and excited to go home.

A creature of habit.

Long time no write…So I guess this entry will be about something I have randomly thought about.

So I am in a whinging ranting type mood again all because a flatmate unknowingly interrupted my balance. You see I am a creature of habit, very particular and once something I do has been upset or displaced I get agitated. I don’t know if anyone has noticed this but I like things done a certain way and things in a certain place and I have a certain routine. It’s as if one of these things is changed without my consent I am really upset and agitated, scary agitated and causes a lot of anxiety. I like having my things in a certain place and not moved and I hate sharing. I have no idea why. Maybe I am OCD or something.

Usually the anxiety is caused by something bigger, but little things trigger it that are completely unrelated. For starters I am sick of my new flatmate calling me Mel. My name isn’t Mel I wish people would realise this. It’s Melissa. M-E-L-I-S-S-A. I can’t stand little noise when people eat or the sound of the keyboard. I also have a particular obsession with objects. I like them because I can control them probably and because I think I am a bit selfish.

I like my stuff in a certain way and it really annoys me when Justine or past flatmates stacks the bowls wrongly (although it’s not technically wrong). By wrongly I mean mixing the bowls by size and type. Like stacking the plastic bowls in between the ceramic bowls or putting the plastic ones underneath the ceramic bowls. This sounds really weird but I like the ceramic bowls to be on the bottom, then the plastic bowls, then the bowls in the next smallest size and so on. I am seriously afraid if it isn’t in this particular order that A. it looks tacky and B. it will fall over and smack someone or myself in the entire head seeing as for some reason they are n the highest shelf, but I don’t want them on any other self because they have always been on that shelf. Death by kitchenware doesn’t appeal to me. This stacking applies to plates as well. Glasses are never stacked. I NEVER stack glasses.

Then in my cupboard shelf I like it organised too. First with cereal, then pasta, then long life milk, the sauces, etc. I used to alphabetise my CD’s. Now that I think about it I have impulse to go and do this. The files on my computer are meticulously organised by file and type. I organise my books by size from largest to smallest. I organise my DVD’s by genre and if it is a TV series by volume, so you wouldn’t find season four by season two of Futurama.

I am also non confrontational. I always tell a third party about my annoyances rather than tell the actual annoyance. I think I am afraid they will lash out at me or something. Another thing I noticed is I am constantly worrying to the point that it annoys people, to which I am worried that I have annoyed them, constantly looking for self reassurance from others, asking others the same question I already know the answer too as some sort or confirmation of some sort and worrying about failing assignments and tasks that I know I shouldn’t be.

P.S. If any of this doesn’t sound completely obsessive I don’t know what is. This is all slightly embarrassing to share too.