Truth be told, I'm so sick of whining about being sick or sad, or 'not feeling so hot', that I could die. It's not as though those are the only parts of my life. Maybe in the moment, they certainly feel that way. I should update this blog somewhere other than bed, really.

This weekend, I guess I'll be the 'sad girl on the ferry' when I go home for Thanksgiving. You know what I mean; you notice a lone figure standing on the deck of the ferry, smoking cigarettes. She has windswept hair and sad eyes. Maybe her little dog is pulling on his leash to go elsewhere....but that's where she stands, looking out onto the painfully blue water. Maybe she's in deep thought about her lost love, or the fact she can't cook. Or perhaps, she is mourning the fact she never bought those trendy Gucci sunglasses at the Half-off store and now has to face the others on the boat with bare eyes. And you know just by her luggage that she must feel somewhat cosmopolitan for appearing at her family home in time for the holidays. Able and eager to leave after dinner. Slick sunglasses or not.

Yep. I'll play that part in public just because maybe I have nothing else to do. The only thing that sucks about it is they do not allow smoking on deck anymore. Must be all the cigarette butts that are floating in Lake Huron. Or maybe the seagulls finally got together and made a stink about the tainted air they have to deal with as they fly in tandem with the boat as it crosses from Tobermory to Manitoulin Island.

We call it a boat, not a ferry. Unsophisticated. But I don't think the locals care. Or the tourists, for that matter.

Nuts man, we're all just nuts. Excuse me, I must go and listen to Bruce Springsteen now.

Labels: acting, Bruce Springsteen, family, Ferry, Gish, holidays, music, New York, smoking

A live with a new laptop, at last. I'm not altogether too sure about the bonding process as there seems to be little quirks this laptop likes to through in at inopportune times. Maybe it's the brand, or the way I'm pushing it around so that it can resemble at least partly my old laptop.

Just dreams. Wishes.


That's Buckley, he's more interested in the ground these days. I don't really know if I have the heart to drag him to New York. All thoughts of Columbia are on the back burner for the time being. I'm half thinking of heading down that way within the next few months. Early, very early.

Or maybe Ireland. I know what it is. I just want to run away from whatever has it's hold on me here. The friends I thought I could count on have troubles of their own and I can't waste anymore of their times with telephone calls and emails.

Dinner with my sister today. We both left halfway through the meal. I'm considered rude and defensive. I think that some things should be left alone. There is no win-win here. It's like we're back to where we were before I had any kind of breakdown.

I knew it. True colours always bleed through, no matter who you think the person is.

Labels: depression, dinner, family, melancholy, New York, run, running

my hospital room
Originally uploaded by Abstract Magdalene.

I've been purposly ignoring my ailing laptop these past few days. Save for checking email and a friends' website, I've mostly been watching tv or re-reading one of my countless books. And thinking. Always with the thinking.

Sometimes, thinking can take me to places I used to dream about. Sometimes, thinking can land me in the right place when I've done a wrong thing. For instance, taking your life. Ending it all. Offing yourself. Whichever phrase you use, it means the same thing in any language. And I've been known to try stupid things. Lots of stupid things. But I've also been lucky in that it only took until I was 31 to find out what the answer to all my stupidness *and* greatness stems from. I mean, I'm not a rockstar, nor a famous painter or photographer.

But I've got this brain that never seems to stop. From that, good and bad things happen. At this point in time, I'm focusing on the good things. Like this photograph of my nephew:

taken but his Aunt Niibin.

I also did a lot of thinking in the hospital. Not really much else one can do when they aren't allowed to leave. I've been thinking about Bipolar and my creativity. Or what to do with the issue of school. My family wants me to wait until I'm more 'settled' which seems silly to me. Why would one get settled only to up and leave again? Or a job. Or a real life, instead of the half life I was living.

I don't know the answers to anything small. I just have one big answer that I have to break down into something more manageable.

And dammit, I want to see some new live shows.

Labels: Daniel Johnston, depression, drama, family, how not to be an idiot, job, Matthew Good, nephews, neurotic, New York, photographs, photography

Hawksley Workman once wrote a song called "Tonight, Romanticise the Automobile". Now, whenever I hear the word 'romanticise' I think of that song, hum a few bars and continue on with whatever it was I was doing.

The word reminds me of what movies do to my psyche. They make me believe, for short amounts of time (around 5 or 10 minutes) that my life could be like the characters in the movie. That I could casually walk along Amsterdam avenue in New York City and buy flowers for my little kitchen table, or maybe come across a stand that sells apples. As if there would be flower sellers or apple buyers on Amsterdam avenue. Wrong neighbourhood, Gish.

Crisp Royal Gala apples (currently one of my little addictions) and sunny yellow tulips that sit in a clear vase in the throes of death, but looking stunningly beautiful whilst they die. Simple things like sweeping the floor, watching Fall leaves drift to the ground.

Oh, and consuming products like Coke Plus, or Diet Cherry 7-up, eating blueberry donuts and smoking Capri slim cigarettes. Those are the things that I managed to experience while driving around small town Michigan yesterday.

And of course, the reference to life romanticized into tiny manageable bites, is because You've Got Mail is on. Which I am sure is not an accurate portrayal of life in New York, but I suppose that it doesn't matter right now.

I'm going to fall asleep in clean bright red sheets that I picked up in Michigan, and dream of possible, attainable things.

Not things like buying apples from a stand in New York or ideas of snorkeling gin and tonics in a swanky bar in the Upper East Side. Although truth be told, I am not all that interested in the swanky bar bit. People don't really live like that, right?

People shop at Target, they eat at Chili's once a week, and then go home to their bedroom communities of large cities with matching bed sheets and non-slip decals in the bath tub. I've got to just give up the ghost and find my place amongst them.

Bed time. Red sheets, an apple and a novel I've read 10 times before.

Labels: hawksley workman, how not to be an idiot, layers, neurotic, New York, travelling

You know when your work life interferes with your real life? I mean, I know I have no life other than work to begin with but at this moment, that is beside the point. Like usual, I completely forgot about a show I wanted to go to. I know I had written down somewhere but because it's not in my face, I completely forgot. Until I stumbled upon the notice while surfing the net.

Interpol is playing tonight in a crappy club not far from my house.

Interpol!! So of course, I rush out to get a ticket, and I've been listening to Turn On The Bright Lights all freaking day. Even subjecting my clients to the music when I've had to transport them. And asking my younger clients if they listen to Interpol.

The reaction was less than what I desired. Turns out no one knows who they are, even the self-proclaimed 'music guy' in my office. Take that, Music guy. Turns out even though I live like a hermit and currently have an addiction to banana cream pie pudding and Royal Gala apples (of course, not together) that I eat while watching CSI reruns.

Oh, and sending funny ecards to my officemate, who as it turns out, has a sense of humour. Will wonders never cease. Just kidding. Mostly.

Anyway, I grabbed a ticket for tonight's show but it looks like I will be working late and may *just* have enough time to slide into town for when the band goes on. I mean, I could work late any other day but here I am, having to work late on a night I *actually* have plans. Like, really freaking late.

Figures.

Anyway, I do have a spare hour so I may sneak out for a bite to eat and a bit of black clothing shopping, so I can look at least somewhat street cred in the event I do make it to the show. Also, am looking for a way to smuggle my gigantic camera into the venue because in the past they have been jerks about photogs.

But it's Interpol!!!

Labels: drama, how not to be an idiot, job, late night, music, neurotic, New York, opinions, photographs, work

Ok, not really. I mean, I'm applying for a Master's degree at a University in New York City, but nothing is written in stone. I know my parents will wonder why I didn't choose Toronto or Vancouver, or even (god forbid) the city where I got my first degree but I have no answer.

Maybe I just want the accolade of having gone to an ivy league school.

Maybe I just want to be closer to Ryan Adams concerts.

Maybe I'm just nuts.

I'll choose the nuts option. I knew wherever I decided to get a Master's degree would matter and for some crazy reason I thought that two degrees from the same university would be...lame. Which just looks lame typing it out, but what can I say? I get weird things in my head sometimes.

And I told Craig he would have to look after me while I was in New York. So, I'll have a little guardian angel while I'm there. That sounds cushy, doesn't it? I thought so, too.

Of course, as with anything that has to do with me, we don't know if this will really happen, but it's been on my mind for a little while so I thought I should look into it. It doesn't mean I will get financial aid, or help from anyone other than my own pocket (which is currently empty, I mean if I were wearing pants that had pockets). It doesn't even mean I will be accepted. I do know though, they are still taking applications for the Fall and I want in there just to see what's what.

God, I get nutty ideas sometimes. Next thing you'll know I'll be taking flying lessons in red tights and a tutu. Or decide I can be a chef and go to some obscure chocolate making school in Switzerland.

With me, anything can happen.
Scary thought, huh?

p.s imagine the photographs? *sigh*

Labels: neurotic, New York, photographs, photography, School

pretty when you're blue
Originally uploaded by Abstract Magdalene.

Ok, if this entry doesn't turn out then it's Blogger's fault. I've tried to change the font size and all that, but if you can't read me, then.....dumb blogger. *grin*

I've decided I'm going to New York in May to see Ryan Adams. I was hoping for a run down bar kind of place but it's in a performing arts centre. I don't know how I'll be able to hide my camera. This is one of those times I wish I had a little palm sized one to pocket when security goes by. So, no listening to lovely music through a haze of cigarette smoke, and a thin layer of gin and tonic. Just sitting in a velvet chair, and listening whilst cupping my chin in my hand and smiling dreamily. Mmmm

I grabbed a bunch of photographs from the internet because I was curious to see what this songbird looks like. I love this photo, mostly because of the record player and the head phones. I wish I had a record player. *sigh* For those of you interested, Ryan Adams and the Cardinals will be on The Henry Rollins show on IFC on April 20th. That should be good.

Anyway, I credited the photo at Flickr. Also, I've misplaced the Usb cable to transfer any photos I've taken recently. I don't know where it is. I've looked everywhere and now I am considering buying a new cable, which is stupid since the original cable HAS to be kicking around the apartment somewhere and if I cleaned up like a normal person, it would turn up. I am almost sure that it would turn up the minute I come through the door with a new cable. Why is this such a big deal? I don't know. But it is the most exciting thing that has happened to me lately. That and I'm getting TONS of sleep.

Thank you, new blanket and bed sheets.

It's Easter weekend this weekend. I used to look forward to it and run home to Ottawa. Years ago. but now, I'll be watching Nickolaki in his first Easter Egg hunt and I'll take photographs. Maybe Buckley will come, too.

What are you up to, beauties.

Labels: Easter, music, New York, Ryan Adams