Monday, December 31, 2012

Fuck resolutions but bring on the gratitude!

I'm not big on Christmas so I didn't wish "Joyeux Noel" to anyone but New Year's Eve is mine. Halloween still my favorite time of the year but for the Holidays, it's NYE.

I'm reading all the posts on my social networks and I see resolutions. I usually always have one but I think I have it/them simply because it's the thing to do. At a year's end, you need to have some thing to aim to, a goal. Well, I DON'T HAVE one for 2013. I've been thinking and searching for that thing that I need to improve, moderate and eliminate.... That thing that needs to change so my life can be better. I didn't find it.

Instead of a resolution for 2013, I'm thankful for 2012.

I'm thankful for being healthy. I'm thankful for having a somewhat good head on my shoulder. (Define "crazy") I'm thankful for family and friends. You all have touch my life is some way and I'm happy that I can share this life with you, may it be more virtual or in real life. Energy is energy. I'm thankful to have an exceptional partner to share my everyday with. I'm thankful for being apt to work and going to university to learn a subject I love: sexology. I'm thankful for SEX. I'm thankful for the great moments of happiness but also for the terrible ones that brought me down because I learnt and grew from them.

Being so thankful for everything I have makes me feel pretty fucking good about 2012 and only makes me excited about the unexpected of 2013. LOVE LIFE!

I WISH YOU ALL HAPPY NEW YEAR! It's coming only in a couple of hours but I'll be drunk by then and texting will be too complicated to do.

To 2013!

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Food poisoning, suspended license and fundle religious icons

Hi y'all!

I don't think there would be a better day to justify my blog's title: Shanna's brain pieces. Litteraly my brain is in pieces after today and it was hard to find an appropriate title for this post other than it's numeric date. You could said that my day was divided in sections, starting in the weeeee hours of the morning. Here's my day!

I woke up this morning at 2:46 with a headache, nausea and chest pain. Ideas and thoughts were going on at 200 miles/hour in my head and I was mostly fixating so I know all my symptoms were related to a kinda of anxiety mini-tiny-attack. I tried to find some comfort within my partner somewhat wisdom but that was a cul-de-sac. Awkwardly enough, my cousin had the best advice when I posted my status on Facebook: masturbate with porn. Plus vomiting really helped to... just saying that the italian poutine from Peel Pub didn't like my insides and just wanted to take some fresh air.

Fell asleep finally to wake up late at I arrived at work 45 minutes late than usual. My alarm never went off. (I find out this evening that my alarm was set to P.M. instead of A.M. /facepalm) At work, I did breakfast service and a full dinner service as well (7:45 to 14:00). My boss was understanding... pissed at the beginning but she calmed down and really saw I was upside down. Then, I leave work to go up to the S.A.A.Q. (DMV) on Henri-Bourassa to pass the written test to get my driver's license back.

Oh yes! You read right: to get my driver's license back. It was suspended for the last 3 months. A lot of you didn't know because I just didn't speak about it unless it was important or relevant. I did an excessive speeding infraction back in 2009. The verdict only passed this year. I passed my exam with 23/30 and I have my license again. Yeah! But the whole process was from 15:00 to 17:15, or about. Afterwards, take the transit to get back to my place. It took an hour and 10 min.

At my place, rush to eat and get somewhat change. Finally take my first ride in my beloved Cocotte (my car's name) from my place (Honoré-Beaugrand) to all the way West side. I have some fun mocking a major religion in an artistic and fashionable way for a 2 hours, or about, period.

I've been at my place now for a bout an hour and such. I ate a bit more, took a shower. I had the intention to write a 12 pages paper for my class tonite but since my brain is so scattered I decided to blog instead and just tell you my day.

How was your Wednesday November 14th?

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Kiss and hug... anytime and anywhere

I chose to walk with my roommate this morning towards his school instead of taking the bus directly to metro Honore-Beaugrand, where I was going. I told him: "Gimme a kiss and hug." A peck on the cheek and a hug and we parted ways.

I couldn't help to think how a lot of people don't do this to each other. Either may it be a hug-and-kiss or a handshake-and-hug as public demonstration of affection between two good acquaintances or friends isn't something you see often. I would think that we take for granted when we see this between two people it's because there some type of "intimacy" going on or they are lovers of some sort. Demonstrations of affection do come from a certain amount of intimacy between people but we can use the word "intimacy" for relationships like family members.

What about friends? What about acquaintances?

It makes me think but I don't want to think too much about it. I have to admit that I hug-and-kiss maybe for selfish reasons. I have to thank my mother for raising in a way to think: "We all need a hug daily." From that, I love to hug-and-kiss people because I can feel them... their heat and somewhat their energy. It gets my right side of the brain going :)

On a sadder note, I hug-and-kiss because I never know if I'll see them again. I personally know life is unexpected and unreliable. As such, when I parts way with someone I never know if I'll see them again. I'm not being pessimistic but being realistic. By being this way, I appreciate the company that I have at their present times by 100 folds more and I love them that much more.

Friday, August 24, 2012

Avoiding academic suicide

I can't go back to sleep. I'm anxious. I can't relax. In bed, I'm twisting and turning so I'm up. Don't want to wake up my partner. I'm hungover from last night's liquid comfort (tequila and beer). I'm tanking down so much water right now (and some ibuprofen). The sun's not up and I'll be groggy all day until I go off to work at 3:30 pm. I hope I can go back to sleep eventually this morning and cuddle up my males (partner and cat).

As a sexology student at U.Q.A.M., my studies' department is part of the Humanities study field like psychology, sociology and political sciences. A.F.E.S.H. (Association facultaire étudiante des sciences humaines), my student association, will be pursuing the student strike that's been going for several months now. A.F.E.S.H. is one of the most extremist in its technics for voicing its positions. At the general assembly yesterday, a vote went through. We even have C.L.A.S.S.E. (That one is an other pair of sleeves: "une autre paire de manches") I use the term "We" because I'm part of the association. As a student in this association, I can voice my opinion and I can vote. I pay an annual subscription to be part of it and that my rights as a student can be promoted and defended individually and collectively (that last part comes from A.F.E.S.H.'s Facebook page About).

I remember why the strike and protests began.
I remember what we were striving for.
I remember we were strong.
I remember... that's it, now. I just remember.

The student strike is not working anymore. The government ain't listening, the Liberals are actually using this social crisis to their advantage. "Let's keep the strike going for those Liberals to stay in power!" Used tactics need to be pushed up, changed, upgraded, bettered. I feel that my student association isn't even listening neither.

I don't feel represented.
I don't feel defended.
I don't feel being heard.
I don't feel like a student anymore.

I don't feel like a student anymore, where I'm standing now. 

With an unlimited strike ahead, there will be uncertainties again. There will be arguing again. Students picketing U.Q.A.M.'s doors. Teachers debating to give their classes. Protests, riots and police. I JUST WANT TO CONTINUE MY DEGREE. Where's my right for that? I believe there's a way to protest against the increases but still continue our education. I don't believe it's having my cake and eating too. I believe it's using our brains.

I quit being a full-time student and I'm taking a step back. As Southpark's Cartman says: "Screw you guys, I'm going home."

I was waiting for this general assembly's vote result to take a decision. I'm stepping down because this shit isn't for me anymore. I'm loosing my taste to pursue my degree. My motivation is disappearing and if my drive would actually be an image of me driving a car: I'm stepping down hard on the brakes so I don't hit the wall. My body and my mind are tired from the anxiety and the uncertainty which result from these ungoing disputes where no one is actually listening anymore. A.F.E.S.H. isn't representing my views.

I'm taking a year off before I academically suicide!

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Breaking up by writing

Wow! Two posts in a less than a week, I'm on a roll. I forgot how writing can be cleansing at times. I'm writing this with the full awareness that who this subject start up with could be reading this; maybe give them the opportunity to understand more where I come from and a better understanding of what I've written to them already. If not, I hope the few words below can help someone else. The word relationship in this post relates to a friendship but this text can be for a love relationship as well.

I hate settling relationship matters by e-mails and by letters. I find it ridiculous and childish. Yes - writing permits you to communicate ideas, thoughts and say stuff that one could probably not say by shyness, clumsiness in communicating or simply fear of confrontation and fear of not getting one's message through. The thing about writing about relationships is you need to be talented to convey your emotion properly with a pen. I am not.

Let's use: "I am not" to explain what I mean. I-am-not in this circumstance could be said sadly because I wish I could convey emotion properly by writing OR I-am-not could be said in a stern way as in I don't care if I can do it properly or even a heavier tone of "I don't give a shit". Of course, an other phrase after I-am-not would help clarify the emotion behind the words but I don't get descriptive. My words can be as sharp as my tongue (hmm tongue... mind going in the gutter).

When I speak, my words only represents less than 20 percent of what I feel. All the rest is done through my eyes, my voice, my facial expressions, my hands and the rest of my body. Be the compulsive liar that I was growing up, all the deceptive people I had in my life (mainly because of my past work domain), I came to understand the honesty of body language with its authenticity. Unless you're a poker player or a really good manipulator, then you control your body language pretty fucking well :)

Even the add-on of that smiley face at the end of the last phrase helps to convey emotions. What would e-mails, chatting and texting be without emoticons!

If I would become a therapist of any sort, I wouldn't encourage writing even in the circumstances I mentioned above: shyness, clumsiness or fear. I prefer the head-on technique. You meet and you settle things, right there and then. No fucking around for days on texts that were written, showing it off to other people to have them give you their opinion because you can't do it on your own. In the case that thought me the lesson, I had a conflict with my mother back in the days and she printed out my e-mail response to her and showed it to her side of the family for all of them to read. Yup! my own mother. Ever since then, no more writing relationship issues BUT I did make an exception in this case because this person had some fear of confrontation and not being able of putting their thoughts through completely.

What I wrote to this person I assume 100 percent. I wrote it knowing that it can be shown to other people and that my words can be interpreted in more than one way. I wrote the words fully aware that, now that they are out there, anything can be done with them. Keeping these things in mind when I am writing about relationship issues directly with the person concern, I just write things as they are. I don't sugar-coat them. I simply write matters as I think them, like reporting news from my mind. I have to admit in a way when I read what I wrote, there seems to be a certain carelessness in my phrases but I also feel liberated. Free that it's out! Free that I gave my all! That sense of freedom combine with carelessness just makes it easier to deal with relationship issues at whatever degree.

Break-up and fights by writing aren't easier or better by writing than in person. They still hurt and can break your heart. Apart from the writing, I don't deal with relationship endings as commonly as others. With my life experience up to now, in my mid-thirties, life is too unexpected and short to hold grudges and have drama. Short as life is, the advantage is time heals all and time goes by fast. So we all get over stuff pretty fast once we look back. Nothing lasts for ever: emotions and relationships. People come and go in life. Keep it simple. Enjoy life to its fullest. Lessons can be retain from everything.

Here's one last point again: take for example the paragraph above. One can read it as if I was writing in a condescending tone. Saying the words that I wrote there, I would use my soft comforting voice because each phrase holds truth and is positive to me. I've lost some really good friends throughout my life, may it be by death, misunderstandings or sheer stupidness from both parties. Length of a relationship doesn't give the importance or strength of it. I say this because I experience and I heard from others too much about how much the impact of a person in your life can be the length of a night or a lifetime. With that last phrase, that's why I value all people I encounter, may it be negative or positive, and that's why I don't consider any relationship superficial. Instead of superficiality, I look at it as steps on a ladder of importance in my life.

If you don't like or don't get along with someone, move on. There's so many other wonderful people out there.

Love to all.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

I hate gossip

I waitress in a restaurant this summer. One thing that comes with the restaurant business is : gossip. Gossip, gossip, gossip. FUCK I HATE IT! Freaking games of he-said she-said just makes me want to crack some skulls... especially today.

The eldest waitress is one big gossiper. She comes in and says that three customers want to make some complaints against me. With the stories she says, one complain about tipping, one said that I basically told her to fuck off and the last... I don't remember. I never verbally tell someone to "fuck off" or "vachier". If I would ever get to that point, it is because something really bad happened. It just pisses me off how people escalate in telling a story and talking shit about stuff, and making more than what it is. It gets ridiculous!!! Plus the fucking old delivery guy saying to the owner that I told him that we're looking for new delivery guys, makes me look bad.

I know I shouldn't care about what other people say but I can't help but feel mad when my reputation is at stake. I do care how people view me.

Plus, the cook who I work with today is a fucking tool on the week-end rushes. Geez! 1 in every 3 plates have mistakes: elements missing, bad cooking and such. My job is waitressing, bust tables and cook the toasts... FUCK I don't have time to expedite the food as well :( Such an unecessary added stress to all I have already to do in a shift. Last things I want is unhappy clients and more running between tables and the kitchen.

I need to work with a snobby clientele, where tips are mandatory, where I don't have to deal with the kitchen directly, where I don't have to bust table and do dishes. All I have to do is: WAITER. It must fucking exist somewhere. Grrrrrr! This is my call to the universe... I WANT THIS PLEASE.

So pissed off as I was, I posted on five job offers today via Internet. It made me feel good, it made me feel fucking good. I actually don't know where I actually posted but it just made me feel good. How much can one write "feel good" in a paragraph... wait: "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" "feel good" ... Let's say it's enough!

OK - time to let go! Off till Tuesday afternoon. Let not this wreck my time off!

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Yup, I'm moving again!

I haven't written in a while. Since Facebook limits character usage for our status, I figured why not blog about it. No worries: it's a short read.

When I first wrote that I was moving, the most common response was: "Not again!" or "again". Back in mid-October, I moved back to Montreal from Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu. It was understood with the Cooperative where I moved in that once I was in I could move to a better apartment. Me and J occupy right now the smallest of all 24 apartments inside the Coop. The hallway isn't even large enough to let my broaded-shoulder partner through. We're in a sub-basement that has just enough light from which they barely survive. Also in a sub-basement, you can't leave the curtains open because every passersby is curious or you see neighbor's dogs shit in your living room window (it's been happening more then once). The cherry on the sundae: when we went upstairs to ask the neighbor to tone down the noise, the argument escalated and she spit on me. (Going to court the following year.)

This new place is the last top floor. Yes, a lot of stairs but no one on our heads; there's lots of light; 2 balconies (front and back) and consequently because of the height, there's more privacy. I forgot to mention its bigger so we can let go the locker we rent on a monthly basis and store our stuff in our place. All the rooms are bigger in the new place. All that for 10$ on rent per month.

I'm sure you'd move too if you had the option :) No?