Muse to a French

A friend summonned me and I didn't hesitate to go see him right away. I don't understand the relationship I have with this person but I know I have so much affection for him. We were talking about how people can be nice to one and an other, and that we sometime feel like we don't deserve kindness. This person gives me a lot and I can  say he litterally showered me with gifts last time he saw me. A part of me still asks: "But what did I do deserve this?" He also wrote a short with me in mind. Here it is, in its integral version.

" Après avoir voler et survoler le Monde et ses habitants tellement il trouvait tout cela magnifique... Il ne restait plus à cet Oiseau le moindre duvet, la moindre plume ! Usé jusqu'à la carne et pourtant il continuait à être au-dessus de tout autre être vivant. Sans jamais se poser, il continuait son vol, imperturbable condor, majestueux aigle royal, coloré canari ? Personne ne le sait.... Il continu simplement de voler, nu et déplumé. Les animaux lèvent la tête, le regardent et se demandent comment il se peut en être ainsi... Lui aussi nu qu'un ver de terre plus proche du ciel que quiconque".

Je l'ai vu passer cet oiseau et il m'a conté son récit...

Après bien des centaines de milliers d'heures de vols, Le vent a commencé à se lier d'amitié avec l'oiseau et réciproquement. En se croisant plus souvent qu'avec les autres créatures.. l'oiseau étant constamment dans les airs et de par son allure qui ne manquait pas d'attirer l'attention du vent, il commencèrent à jaser et à se confier l'un à l'autre.

Un beau jour l'oiseau dit au vent : "Vent, tu souffres que personnes ne te vois vraiment pour qui tu es mais seulement par ton action, ce que tu fais bouger, l'arbres et les feuilles que tu fais trembler et la neige que tu fais souffler, tu souffres d'être invisible au yeux de tout le monde. Je suis épuisé Vent, je suis fais pour vivre dans les airs. Je refuse de descendre, en bas c'est la jungle, je sais dealer avec les autres oiseaux et les choses volantes mais les bêtes d'en-bas elles sont pas cool et j'en peux plus... Voici mes plumes, Vent, elles sont à toi je te les donnes, maintenant tu as le choix de les bouger ses plumes, elles sont tiennes. Où que tu sois, toute personnes qui verra une de mes plumes saura que c'est toi qui est là. Tiens. et l'oiseau tomba.

Le Vent qui n'avait jamais rien eu d'offert fut tant ému de ce geste qu'il garda l'oiseau avec lui et le porta avec plaisir... et l'oiseau continue jusqu'à ce jour de faire route avec son ami le vent.

Je lui ai demandé en plaisantant : "mais qu'a tu fais de ton duvet ?! Le vent avait il froid aussi ?!"

L'oiseau m'a répondu : "Non. le vent n'avait pas froid mais le Soleil, oui. Moi, Tout étonné : " Le Soleil ???!!!"

"Oui, Le Soleil nous réchauffait mon ami le Vent et moi-même quand à force de nous voir sur tous les hémisphères possible, il s'est mis à nous parler et à nous raconter sa vie, qui il est. Mon ami le Vent et moi avons découvert que le Soleil si généreux de chaleur et de lumière souffrait de cet état. Car destiné à donner toute sa chaleur il avait froid... tout petit, seul était en réalité le soleil. Pour remercier mon ami le vent de sa bonté et le soleil de sa générosité, j'ai offert mon duvet pour que le soleil n'ait plus froid.... Depuis, le Soleil brille de joie et peut continuer à donner sa chaleur dans le confort". et l'oiseau continua sa route, j'espère le recroiser souvent dans ma vie.

Pendant que toute la création se demande comment il fait pour encore voler et en est surpris/choqué.. moi je sais qu'il continue à voler grâce à l'Amour. "

It's funny how we don't realise the impact we have on people. We always have a way to underestimate ourselves.

Can't wait to see you again my anonymous writer!

Where's the motive...

Instead of hitting my fav bistro at the university for a beer, that I can't afford, here I am blogging.

I don't have any motivation to stay here today. I'm trying to think of anything... All my usual motives that keep me here, at UQAM, since 2008. None of them are working.

I'm thinking it's maybe because my Mondays are so much intense of theory. I have 3 classes like most of you know which means :
- 9:30 to 12:30 = Psychopathology. It's the study pathological studies of psychological health issues. It's really technical and quite medical.
- 14:00 to 17:00 = Étude de programme. Basically, I'm studying sexological programs that are already out there so I can have a better understanding of how to build one. The first half of the class of theory and the second are interactions. The teacher is frightening unhealthy looking... poor woman.
- 18:00 to 21:00 = Teenager to Young adult development. That's my killer. This was suppose to be a class taken in my first year which I never did. The teacher wants me to kill myself so I skip class halfway through. A lot of the stuff from this class I already know from my psych classes from Concordia.

Can you understand my lack of motivation to keep staying here? In some way? I try to give myself some incentive to stay the longest possible here; like having a beer at the end of the day, but it doesn't seem to do the trick.

I really do feel like quitting, drop out and just work full time but good thing I'm stubborn. I guess... Maybe I feel like this because of my lack of alcohol... who knows. I don't. Maybe I feel like because the obligation to be here, the "mandatory" part of it turns me off. I tasted working full time the majority of last year and I liked the money income. Waitressing is fun and I like it... but I play those stories in my head of people who told me about how they didn't continue their studies, their degrees, and wished they could go back.

Maybe I just have a case of the Monday blues....

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!

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?

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.

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!

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.

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!

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?

Cell phone crossroads

My week so far sucks! My modo has for the last days is: "I don't feel like it!" for getting up in the morning; going to UQÀM; doing research, reading & homework; cleaning the house; even going to sleep... Fuck it! Breathing since I'm at it. I haven't been really productive, I'm just crying a lot lately. The thought of being DEPRESSIVE crossed my mind but I get happy. Then, the idea of my happiness being MANIA episodes crossed my mind but I'm NOT bipolar (I don't think so).

TODAY, I just can't stop CRYING. You know how you hear: "It's the details that count". Well some details, some small things, can have a major impact by triggering a thinking process that finally brings a conclusion, an EPIPHANY of some sort.

I have a cell phone, by contract which I'm proud expires in November 2012. Last night, I went to the cell phone store because I had the idea of getting a multiple line account. You know those cellular account which have to phones with individual numbers, which share airtime and dataload. To get a good deal, I need to go back on a 3 year contract and I didn't want that. I didn't want it because I was SCARED. Scared of getting stuck with it if I end up alone, scared of the engagement. 

I am scared of COMMITMENT. I don't want to be tied down anymore and I certainly don't want the biggest commitment of all: having kids. I don't want KIDS. I'm not even particularly fawned of them. Simplest example: when I go to a restaurant I ask the waitress to be a furthest away from kids. I don't hate them, I just dislike them before 7 years-old "ish". The issue of having kids has come up in my other relationships. My first husband after our separation had his daughter not even before the divorce was final and my second one... mixing genes with him would be a monumental MISTAKE. I'm not comparing I'm just chronologically analyzing my choice. I don't have the patience for kids. I'm 34 and my clock hasn't much time left. I don't want to massacre my figure. I want... it's me, myself and I. I want to have impact on a or many human beings but not as a parent.

Here's the crossroad. I finally MADE UP my mind. I'll be a womyn who isn't going to have kids. I'll be proud to say from now on: I'm not having kids.

My boyfriend does... what now!

Family Drama

I used to think that my family was closely knitted but my family is just small. The older everyone is getting, the more their flaws stick out. People that were reserved in their mid-age are just self-centered in the late adulthood. Kids that are now young adults don't realise how nasty they can be with a twist on their tongue. The family I'm relating to are the ones that live in the same province as me, which is why it's small. The few units that live far away, don't have to deal with these familial idioties.

My parents are divorce for more then 20 years. My father is so invested in his 20 years plus relationship with his girlfriend and her family, me and my sibling have no room in his life. Attempts were made again as late as last year but this time, we got to understand it as adults and not as teenagers longing for a fatherly presence in their lives. My relationship with him is one phone call once a month to indicate we're still alive. So there's definitely no drama on my paternal side. Evidently, my family drama is from my Mom's end.

It's been going on since my dawn over time. Seriously, my first implication I was 13 years-old. I still remember it today minus a couple of details. One thing I'm proud to say is I have never intently started any I was part of since 20 years. I speak my mind and I don't always know when to shut up. The first thing family drama thought me is: Be careful who you trust. In that process of learning, I got dragged in a few stories; having your words twisted; e-mails being printed to be seen by all; legal disputes; being disowned and then re-owned. You guys think that I'm original and unique, you should meet the women in my family, before me. My family has done things to me that friends haven't.

Now 34, I've learnt a few more things then just the trust issue: if you have to tell something to someone or it concerns someone tell them directly or arrange that they know it from you. That one has kept me out of harms way and the people from who the drama originated look like morons. My favorite lesson is: don't forgive but let go. I'm not vindictive, contrary to a contributor of my genetic pool, but I remember and letting go helps me from keeping any negative feelings. I wouldn't be surprise that this blog, if noticed by one of them, will get twisted around. Bring it! There's a beauty about getting older, I'm not afraid and I know life goes on. Younger, when something brewed about me I took it personally and I went on a mission to clarify my name but it's not worth it. I'm realizing more and more that my family doesn't know me at all. I'm open about my life but they just retain what they want. Isn't that the tragedy of all types of communication... anyways.

1-Careful who you trust. 2-Don't use intermediaries. 3-Don't forgive but let go. I'm sure one would think: Move away! The answer is: NO. It doesn't make it disappear, it tones it down. If moving away becomes an option, I'll be moving a few neighboring provinces away. In the meanwhile, I just try to keep away from it, stand clear and be very cautious. By being absent, it just works for me.

Don't get me wrong, I love my family. I have to admit I'm portraying them being devilish but who's family isn't in a way. If you're one who feels like telling me: My mom is my best friend! Well good for you and I don't give a shit, it's my family here and not about your badly fulfill Oedipus complex.... but then again, think about who's typing this :)

Thanks for reading and thanks for being just... there. Love.

Blacked out and initiated!

Here's one entry that was long overdue, I meant to write it for September 8th or its following week-end but here I am a week or so later.

I'm back at UQAM... oh my! What's different this year is I'm finally on the path to finish my bach in Sexology, which I started back in 2001. 10 years later, I have other diplomas and certificates under my belt but Sexology is "my baby". Ever since secondaire 1, I wanted to go in showbiz or Sexology. I did showbiz for 6 years, if you include my school year then 7 years. Now it's time to head on the other choice.

Being back full time meant I had to reapply because you have so many years to finish a degree (remember in 2001, I was in Sexo). I got accepted and treated like a new student so I got an invitation letter, like any other noob to the program, for "INITIATION". I kept it hanging on the wall deciding if I was going to do it or not. I didn't do it back in 2001 because I was in the program part-time and working for Cirque du Soleil. I didn't see the relevance of it back then. I asked around on Facebook if I should do it and some peeps told me: "Yeah, go for it! It's great fun." I still was undecided until 2 days before it.

I geared myself up because the theme was the 80's and I needed a yellow bracelet. The organizers encourage us to wear some fluorescent colors but, you guys know me, I have to be different so I went "glam rock".

(c) Stéphanie Cadieux

(c) Stéphanie Cadieux

They made us do all sort of activities, singing and saling condoms, hugs and kisses on the grounds around the university. I was the eldest getting initiated. (I'm not the eldest in the bachelor.)

Taken from my iPhone

We were divided in teams and we competed against each other for the prize of BEER (of course!). The organizers, which some were students from the second grade (my year), gave us the chance afterwards to get out of these costums and meet up again to have pizza and then, we headed to the Saint-Sulpice, on Saint-Denis Street. Their last floor was reserved for Sexology students.

(c) Stéphanie Cadieux

I got there at 6 pm and I had the good intent of going back home. By bus. Early. I looked at my watch every half hour of so but at 9:30 I stopped looking and messaged my boyfriend that: "The night was on!" Conversations were good and I got to grope a few people :) I remember the beer was cheap and flowing. Shoots were coming from everywhere. I think I took a puff of cigarette. I went a bit crazy (nothing bad finally). At the end of my night,  I remember a taxi, 25 $ and waking up on my friend Marissa's couch at 6 am.

After assessing the content of my wallet, the sms on my iPhone and the fact I was fully clothed - I blacked out before leaving the bar. I don't remember how I got out or what I did at Marissa's. I found a blurry pic of my cleavage on Facebook and I made a couple of virtual friends on there. I remember 85% of my night. I even remember talking with someone how having a drunkness black out is so "out of class" when you're in your 30's. Oh well! It's not like it happens every month. Last time that it was like this was at Holidays 2010. On initiation night, I got to discover what Liquid Cocaine shots were.

Conclusion: I had a blast at my initiation. I'm very glad that I took on the invitation and did it because I see the importance of it and its relevance much better now. Initiations are mainly to "connect" through mutual experiences. I've made some new friends and I have some deeper ties with others. I got the opportunity to see people interact where I wouldn't have had the chance. That complicity you developed with you classmates during initiation tend to last for a while. The organization did a great job!

My boobies (c) Emilie's iPhone

On a last note: you feel when you blacked out that the whole world knew how idiotic you were and, you also feel like you offended everyone that was around you. Well, I did! It took me until last Tuesday to be sure about myself by talking with others that were there that night.

True Blood Sloth

I enjoy sitting in front of my tele, curled up on my futon with some pillows and sometime my boyfriend is there as well. Last night being one of these moments, I celebrated with some tequila and a few beers because we started True Blood.

I love to look at a series's season in full. I hate to wait a week to see a next episode. True Blood season 4 is concluding on next Sunday... FINALLY! So we started looking last night at season 1. It's our third round. The plan is to view all 3 seasons by Sept 11 and then commence watching season 4.

I resisted looking at fansites and all acquaintances/friends haven't revealed any spoilers. Thank you guys for "respecting" me :)

We finally crashed after episode 4 last night...

So an other year starts and the anxiety...

It's August! You're probably asking yourself: "What the f@c$ is she talking about?" It's a new year of schoooooool or in my case: university, and I can expect the contrary of everything I wrote in an entry at the end of last year's semester:

"No more running in the mornings to grab buses and metro. No more eating lunches or on the go. No more anxiety attacks and get in the middle of the night to start typing what was brewing in my head. No more refusing sex because I'm too tired. No more swearing at the walls out of frustration. No more running in hallways. I can have my week-ends back. I can concentrate on taking care of myself again. I can have my social life back. I can work a steady schedule for a job."

Good thing I've been fast-walking this summer, I'll be able to catch the bus more easily and run in the hallways. I'm going to blow the dust off my lunch bag but I'll keep a better eye on what I'm pouring into myself. Thus, I'll be leaving the beer alone. I'll miss my week-ends and my social life and hello hectic work schedules. One part that I am nervous about is everything that concerns my brain... my mind... my sanity.

I was discussing anxiety issues during a brunch last week with my immediate family. I've been mentioning it here and there throughout the summer but more seriously last Saturday. I really think I have some sort of anxiety disorder. When I'm left to myself in stressful periods, my mind starts racing at light speed. Especially when I lay down to sleep it gets worst. Ideas and images just keeping racing each side of my head. Processes just keep going and emotions are all over the place. I have no control unless I really concentrate. I have to focus and it takes so much energy that I get tired and it starts all over again. Let's say there's a big courant of water coming towards you and to keep you from drowning you're holding a wall against it so it can't attain you. You hold that wall so strongly that after a while your arms start shaking. Your arms get tired from all the resistance forced against it so water starts sipping through the sides and sooner or later you lose your grasp. My concentration on my flow of thoughts are like my arms holding that wall. I have a few tricks up my sleeves to get some sleep but my brain never stops working during stress periods. For example, I'll go to bed around 10 pm and fall asleep around 11:30, only to wake up at 4:30 ready to write, create and produce. In those awakening types,  I don't even need an adjusting period. In a couple of seconds, I get up from bed and go directly on my computer and start working.

One of my tricks is auto-hypnotising myself. I close my eyes and I mentally write the word "NOTHING" in caps, inside my eyelids. I usually fall asleep before I finished writing the word. In stress periods, its efficiency rate really goes to shits. Since I know the causes of my anxiety issues and the "how", the earlier discussions about this subject centre on solutions. I eat good and I exercise so I was thinking of taking yoga or to learn to meditate. I can't meditate. I've been interested in it for years, since my teenage years, but never really grasped it. I need a teacher. I have learned a lot by myself but with that subject I have no success. Other form of solution, I could consult a psychiatrist or psychologist and get little pills prescribed to me. Last not least, I could just buy marijuana! ( I rather smoke up then use pharmaceutical products.)

For the few that are thinking about it, fucking my brains out doesn't cut it either. I'll be having raging flames out my vajayjay by all the friction before I get to a normal relax state. After all these words, my question is:

What other ways can I use during the semester?

Search for great grand-pa...

My mother's mother asked me to look for her father, my great grand-father. I'm just writing here some details so I don't forget.

His name: Thomas McDonald, born May 19 approx 1915/16, in Saskatchewan. His mother was Catherine Bean and he was married to Violet Proudlove, who was born on Dec 11, 1914.

His tag no. was D15501-10. He was part of the 10th Field Ambulance of the 22nd Regiment, during WW2.

He died on October 12, 1945 in Montreal. He succumbed to thrombosis.

When it's time to go : A cat tale

I haven't blog for a while but I just can't get this urge to write about this next subject out of my mind. Still having a car (for now), my neighbor asks me bi-weekly for transport to do his errands, like a taxi driver. His errand for this morning was just too touchy and overwhelming.

My neighbor Marcel's cat has been sick for the last 2 weeks. He tried a bit of everything to get Menou back on his paws. As the days went by, I saw Menou getting thinner and thinner. Then, his hips went so he couldn't balance and walk properly anymore and this morning, his cat couldn't stand when I arrived with my pet cage.

Menou was still breathing and its gaze was so far away, it wasn't there anymore even if it was barely breathing. Marcel and I put it gently in the cage and went to the Veterinarian clinic for 9:00 am. My neighbor just wanted to pay and go, he didn't want to see anything... not even Menou being taken out of the cage, so he waited at my car. Menou meowed while he was paying the bill. I went in the exam room with the Vet assistant so she could get Menou out of the cage and weigh it. As we are taking it out of the cage because it was so skinny and frail, I notice it's not breathing. The assistant went to get the Vet for confirmation and he did confirm its heart wasn't beating anymore.

Menou died once it was at the Vet.

I just couldn't help myself and I started crying. The euthanasia fees were reimbursed for they didn't have to do it but incineration fees were kept. When I came out of the clinic, Marcel looked at me, as I'm in tears, and wondered why I had the money in hand. I explained what happened and he sighed of relief... He was relieved that he did the good thing and it was, really, Menou's time to go.

Dear Diary;

No classes today, student body at the University is on strike. I purposely woke up at 7 am instead of 4:30-5 am. Wow! I slept in. Going with the definition of "sleeping in", that's what it was. For the last few weeks, we (Justin and Me) are still getting used to this new schedule because Justin started FSL (French Second Language), in Greenfield Park.

Soooooooo, sitting in front of my computer now. Finished some breakfast, typing slowly through this blog, still sipping on my coffee and watching ANTM. Yeah! I like to look at that show : tease me.

I haven't been inspired to write this last month. I didn't get that *ding* in my head of : "That would be an idea to blog about!" I am basically blogging on this last day just to have something for March. I have no theme, no question and no insight... Fuck this...

Dear Diary;

March sucks and thank the Gods it's gone tomorrow. I've been so stress : my HEALTH isn't that good. Eczema is out, I have the crink-crank in my deltoïd area and eating late at night. Sleep pattern is all screwed up because of my life partner's new schedule. I seriously need new glasses. In psy200 at Concordia, we're finally in the Mental Disorders : I can identify to everyone of them during this period.

WORK has been awful this month. I have to admit I took a week off and it did me a lot of good physically, but my wallet is so sick right now. Yeah for student loans! My rent gets payed. How am I going to pay May's one? This is my last student loan payment for this semester. I'm going to be as busy in April... maybe more. I'm so stern in my main occupation ( I call it my main because it's usually the principal source of revenue) because I care for my health and others. That's my first concern! Just blows my mind how people are uneducated on matters. I'm not suffering from a OCD, I'm just conscientious. Plus others are always doing more for less - I found it frightening as it lowers the value of the business. I notice through the years : the cost of living goes up but the field prices haven't really raised. The only thing that rose is more people are wiling to do it for cheaper. I thought for a while it was because I was getting older, but that's not it. I concluded that I need to change my advertising and exposure, I need to INNOVATE. Most important of all, I need to find something else! I just don't see the usefulness of it anymore. Yeah! That's right : the usefulness. I would of never thought it would come down to that element.

UNIVERSITY is hanging on a thread in my mind. I'm not quitting, I just don't know where to go. This semester has all been about being divided in 2 : between 2 universities (Concordia and UQAM); and between 2 programs (among Linguistics, Psychology and Sexology). My grades for the mid-semester are great. Personally I don't consider them good at all. My average is C. Really a C 'cuz all my grades are either C-, C or C+ Yuck! I like my B's and I miss them. Justin said something a few weeks ago and he's right. My drive this semester isn't the same as the previous ones. I'm trying to pick it up a notch since then. I've been sacrificing my week-ends which gives me some breathing room during the week days. I've been reading so much this month that there's is a remarkable increase in my reading speed. I go through the pages faster, I retain more info and analysis are easier. One good thing came out of my bad grades! More than one, I pull my drive's strenght from it too.

Concordia is almost over : 2 weeks to go (April 11th). That freaking class' final is about its book I've been studying since last September and 40 pages/solo project. 3 out of my 4 UQAM classes have final projects : 2-men 15 page-paper with oral presentation, 1-man 15 page-case study and a 3-men 50-page project. I feel overwhelmed and it suffocates me sometimes. I get neurotic at times! Bad luck for getting end tale class choices which will be the case again if I choose to pursue Sexology. I got my replies back from UQAM. I've been accepted in both programs I applied to. Admission-wise I'm considered a new student so my class choices can't be done before May 24th. Imagine! (I just want an easier schedule) Commuting like I am right now is killing me in so many aspects.

My RELATIONSHIP is stable. I haven't been analytical about it that much. I see Justin as a great source of support. He's a great partner in my life right now on all aspects : emotionally, physically and financially. He's ready to challenge if really needed. I have to mention "really needed" because most times, he goes with the saying : "Hell has no fury like a woman scorned". (Remember I wrote earlier : I get neurotic sometimes) I would say the only "ick" would be that I don't want him to forget himself in this relationship. I'm a firm believer that there's you, there's me and there's the relationship. Symbiotic micro-systems aren't my thing. Another thing I keep noticing about this partnership, I would always talk about sex. I would often rant about my sex life. I don't do that anymore. Makes me think about the French saying : "Grand parleur, petit faiseur" (Big talker, little doer) I'll just leave it at that [dot][dot][dot]

ANTM is done. I've switched to BSG 2005 during blog composition. If you read this whole blog,  you drank from my poured heart. It's one way for me to take a drink with a friend, I guess. To all my good friends that I'm not keeping a "live" interaction with: know that I care for you (miss you) and this "Dear Diary" blog is a way of telling you how I'm doing. Onward to April! Less than a month before semester's end!

To NERD week - what?!?

No classes for next week! I still have a lot of reading to catch up, two team projects to pursue and some studying for my other 2 mid terms exam in two weeks; hence the nomination of this upcoming week : Reading Week. (In French : semaine de lecture) I have to admit the terminology "Spring break" sounds so much better, positive and of-the-party-nature. For the latter, Google the words "spring break" for images and you'll get a shitload of BOOBS!!! It mostly all Americans too.

The fun I'll be having this week will be continuing my latest faux-stain glass project, reorganizing my closets (big project) and other little nick-nacks. I'm just going to be REALLY HAPPY at not going out each day of the week and commute for classes.

"Spring break--also known as March break, Study Week or Reading Week in some parts of Canada--is a recess in early spring at universities and schools in the Brazil, Canada, mainland China, Korea, Japan, Taiwan, Mexico, South Africa, the United States, the United Kingdom and other countries." http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spring_break

I like how there's a specific of how it's called "Reading Week in some parts of Canada--", it makes us sound like NERDS. Wiki ain't the top reference material but it sure is practical! It was the more accurate because the one below, from Princeton, is pretty mild. Both definitions do have the word RECESS in them.

Noun
S: (n) spring break (a week or more of recess during the spring term at school)
http://wordnetweb.princeton.edu/sprinkbreak 

On a short note : to all my fellow classmates, to all my friends who are teacher and to all who are parents - ENJOY this upcoming week! 

Ideal sexual relations?

I was taking a shower this morning and this train of thought just kept going on in my head. I'm not writing this on my facebook page because it's just too darn long for the status box, and I don't want to put it in a FB notes because I want it on my blog... right here!

In sexology, psychology and medicine, a lot of researchers: describe and develop the modal sexual response model over the decades; can label and identify sexual disorders; re-categorize and redefine all type of sexuality items (by items: physiological, psychological, sociological, etc.); and, determine proper course of actions to treat them.

What is the ideal sexual relation? Where not one dysfunction is present? I guess the logical answer would be where all phase of the sexual response model associated are experienced properly. There it is: "(...) experienced properly." Human beings are as individual as they get and sexuality is proper to the individual. Logically, sexuality becomes individualize. As I heard the term, it can be said that I had a rich sex life. I've met so many (many) people where, if they didn't receive any complaints or never been compared, they think they're perfectly healthy and normal.

I keep thinking about this like: If a tree falls in the forest but no one is around to hear it; will it still make noise? A guy or a girl is an early cumer (this is more for guys) and it's never been an issue for him. It's never been an issue in his relationships or in singlehood. Would he consider it a dysfunction? A girl that needs to stimulate her clit while coital or finger penetration to cum and never had any complaints about it: would she feel inadequate? Two women in a relationship for 10 years and don't experience with penetration during the sexual relationship; who would know if any of the two suffer from vaginism. They just don't like penetration. A guy in his twenties who doesn't like to have sex once a week and prefers it once every 2 months. Is that an issue if he's single? If he's in a relationship with someone who feels and thinks the same way. I can easily pull 20 and more examples just on the top of my head, without getting in any paraphilias.

Do you get where I'm going with this?

Violent Winds

I slept so bad last night! Waking up this morning wasn't difficult for as I'm not grumpy, it's just I'm missing sleep. My bedroom walls are thick but I can easily hear everything going on down in the street.

The winds were so violent during the night that Town Hall flagpoles' hardware were chimes;
All chairs and others big items I'm neighboring stretch balcony were dancing randomly;
And, the isolating plastic in my window just kept boasting itself against my closed blind.

For the last two days, the rain has been washing away the snow.
Grass blades were stretching out and the streets were clean.
But when I woke up this morning, I found out why the wind was so reckless:
Winter was fighting with Spring.

Winter told it it wasn't its time yet and blew snow all over the ground.