Forever Tainted

The month-long headache I’ve endured is a migraine. There’s no increased pressure in my eyes, nothing else to explain it. It’s most-likely stress induced and appears to be the cause of my spontaneous blurred vision. Since birth control is known to increase migraine symptoms, I’ve been taken off the pill. My sleeping pill prescription has been renewed and I’ve been warned to take it for up to 5 or 6 nights in a row to get into a good sleeping pattern and then to leave it be as it’s a highly addictive drug.

The doctor offered me a stress leave note and I told him it wasn’t necessary. I won’t be that person and we’ve kind of moved beyond that now anyway. It sure wasn’t hard to have him offer though – he couldn’t do much to diagnose stress so I was pretty much offered a free ticket to E.I. based on my word. I can’t help but wonder if it being so easy is a huge part of the reason so many people in this society are given free tickets. It’s a little food for thought, that is…

Anyway, instead of a free ticket to vacation supported by Unemployment Insurance he offered me a counselor’s name and suggested if I could afford it I went ahead and made an appointment or two. He also asked me to read two books, Full Catastrophe Living, and Feeling Good. Full Catastrophe Living is meant to guide you through how to deal with and manage stress better and Feeling Good is meant to enhance your cognitive abilities to deal with negative emotions. I’ve bought Full Catastrophe Living for my iPad, and intend to start reading it tonight. It cannot hurt at this point. Once done, I’ll find the other and read it too. Can’t help but like a doctor who prescribes reading!

Instead of spending a few hundred dollars a visit to a counselor, I think I’ll spend a hundred or so dollars a month on Yoga. I’ll stop eating all the crap I’ve been eating of late and I’ll start spending time in my gym again. And I’ll start treating myself better in general, too! (Even if that means I have to say no to others every now and then). All of these things can only help me feel better. And just knowing I’ve made these choices, is already a great start.

My head still hurts… but at least I know I’ll sleep tonight.

It’s that feeling you get when your brain takes over and says you need to let go of something you love. I felt it when I left the UAE; left my son, 4 years ago. I feel it now, as I explained (as best I could without turning into a blubbering idiot) to my boss that I was resigning.

The night before last I lay in bed tossing and turning so thoroughly upset over the day’s professional events, I realized I couldn’t spend another night without sleep because of this stress. I got up and sent off a thoughtless email asking for a demotion. ‘I don’t want to be responsible for other people,’ was the gist of it, though I admittedly rambled on about other responsibilities that aren’t near the stressors that this one has been lately.

“I want to serve drinks,” I stated today. I know it’s not really true and said so soon after. I could never be happy with such a job. I need to think, and face mental challenges. If only my emotions could grow with the same gust.

I realized while exhausted yesterday and as I woke this morning, a demotion just isn’t feasible – for the company or for me. So instead, I quit. And my heart is sincerely broken and I so wish there was another way. I’ve tried over the last few months to find a way to better manage, better deal with the stress I am faced with. I have thought about yoga and excessive exercise, and I’ve considered counseling. None of them have stuck, and the stress is now adversely affecting my health and life in general. There’s a problem when you can’t enjoy fucking the one you love, let alone fall asleep because frustrated thoughts of work are getting in the way.

I feel like crap. I feel like I’m taking the pansy’s way out. Once again I’m not strong enough to face life, so instead I’m running away. And this time, I’m letting people down. Just like leaving let my son down. I know they don’t want me to go. I know it is a disadvantage for them for the moment, even if they will be fine without me. I love them. I love my job. And I love my company. I certainly don’t want to bring any negativity or bad their way.

My heart hurts. But I need a nights' rest. I intend to start the New Year on a positive note and I have a few days to get into that frame of mind!

People like you are able to tell me things about me that I don’t know, thanks to this crappy memory of mine. In fact, most of my childhood friends are. The ones who I still communicate with casually on facebook or elsewhere all seem to remember things we did together that I don’t recall in the faintest. I wish so many of us didn’t live so far apart these days… I’d love to catch up, be reminded of the things we got into. Perhaps it’d help explain why few of people I view as friends from way back then, seem so contently distant today? Or… maybe that’s just what grown ups do; get busy with life.

At 7:27am my son gave me a missed call this morning. I called him back right away and he answered. He sounded miserable. The most I got out of him was a ‘fine’. When I asked him why he seemed so down, he said he was tired and when he told me he loved me, he mumbled so that his words were almost inaudible. It would have been 7:27pm his time, so I suppose him being tired makes sense.

Trish explained that she’s seen the same thing with her young daughter as she talks to her dad on the phone. She’ll sound like dooms approaching, then hangs up and skips away merrily. I’m glad she shared this, as it makes me feel a little more like everything is as it should be and everything will turn out just how it’s meant to be – and I know in the end that will bring my baby boy to me. He wasn’t miserable to talk to me, just doing what a kid does on the phone. I just need to be patient is all.

As Lars mentioned earlier, it was lovely to hear his voice anyway. His dad has promised to send me photos by email soon too. I can’t wait.

My father left this morning for Ontario again. He’s gone for 7 – 10 days (with luck). On the 17th, Lars and I have the ‘Something like Christmas Dinner’ with Lars family in Langley and from there, I’m off to Squamish for a week of work – coming home just in time for Christmas. Lars will be coming with me to Squamish, if my dad’s back by then.

We’ve been having lots of fun getting ready for Christmas around here. The tree is up (and lopsided the way I like it), and there are gifts under it, in the closet and then others hiding from each of us in places unknown. Though with Lars giving me diamonds last week, I can’t imagine what in the world there still is hiding…

It’ll be a busy little while around here. In the meantime, I really need all of you who reached out to me after that last entry to know that I appreciate you. Thank you. Your kind words really did do me some good – they did matter. <3

I find myself browsing the UAE classifieds looking for potential positions and feel my eyes swell up with tears, my throat tighten and my stomach turn itself inside out until there’s a hollow tugging pull in all directions. I am terrified of that place. I’m terrified of what it once made me and has the potential to make me again. I’m terrified of how dangerous it really is, with its ass backwards laws and consequences and unexplained actions. I half fear that customs will grab me at the airport as I enter for some unknown, unseen crime I’ve committed (or even just been accused of committing) and been charged with in absence, without ever being made aware of it.

I’m stuck between a rock and a real hard place right now.

It’s literally been months since I’ve spoken to my son. No one ever answers any of the telephone numbers I have for him and his father is useless at encouraging him to call me. After a night of dreaming about my baby boy being in my arms again, I woke this morning knowing I’ve about had enough of this.

Sometimes I curse my own morals and the fact that I couldn’t, wouldn’t and didn’t kidnap him and somehow bring him home with me.

I called Dubai Police. It took four or five different telephone numbers I’d found online before I finally found one that didn’t just ring and ring. The man who answered was kind and gentle, but about as useless as I recall the majority of the UAE population to be. He told me to contact the UAE Embassy in Ottawa as they should help me. I explained I have tried to contact the UAE Embassy in Canada multiple times in the past for various reasons and I am never able to get through (as like most government offices in UAE, no one answers their Embassy phone here, either). He asked me to hold then came back with a local Dubai telephone number for me. After making me take it down, he explained it was the Canadian Consulate’s number in Dubai. They should help me. Of course, I’d have to wait until their tomorrow morning, or our current evening, to get an answer.

So I called the Canadian Consulate this evening. The man who answered the phone spoke with a thick Arabic accent and was so rude I called him out on it. He transferred me to a kind lady, who again couldn’t help me at all. Apparently, the only way I can get the UAE authorities to look into this, is to go back to the UAE myself and file a complaint with Dubai Courts. The only other possible option I have is to somehow give someone who is there, who is willing and able to help me fight for this, power or attorney. Of course, to give power or attorney to someone there, I have to do it in the UAE Embassy in Ottawa – or go to the UAE again.

Dealing with this country is spinning round and round, as fast as you can, in place. You don’t get anywhere and every now and then you find yourself so fucking dizzy you are left with a combination of severe pain and nausea.

So for now, I think I’m going to tuck myself into bed where I’ll cry myself to sleep. I’ll wake up tomorrow and hope being this far from my baby is less hard on me, than it is every other day. And I know it won’t be. So I’ll hope that the days will pass quickly and soon he’ll be old enough to come to me on his own, that he chooses to, and that when he does, he forgives me the choices I’d had to make that have kept us apart for so long.

I got a lot more done today than I thought I would. I woke early, as I often do these days. I jumped on the treadmill hoping to sweat this cold out of me. I took a shower and ran out the door with Lars to pick up tickets for tomorrow nights’ show, and get to Incendiary Tattoos, to get his tattoo started. Today was his turn to be tortured, and apparently it was my day to be spoiled.

As Jim worked on getting the sketch of Lars’ burning man just right, Lars handed me an unexpected present with a card. I opened a pair of beautiful diamond earrings. His reasoning was that he’d thought my ear piercing had closed over it being so long since I’d worn earrings – so Bubbles could prick me right there and I could wear these beautiful studs home. My ears hadn’t healed over. I didn’t need to get my ears re-pierced. Instead, I opted to get my labret re-pierced.

In 2002 or 2003 (I don’t remember which now), I had both my tongue and my labret pieced while in Belgrade Serbia. I was over charged and it probably hurt a lot more than I remember. I was pretty drunk that trip. Zorana’s grandfather encouraged early morning shots of homemade absinthe to combat the freezing temperatures. Who was I to argue? Mind you, the man also advised us to wear socks in the shower for the same reason. I didn’t comply with that one.

Anyway, a late evening, early morning dip in the Arabian Gulf induced by depression and a potentially-lethal combination of prescription drugs and alcohol resulted in me removing all my piercings, including my belly ring. By the time I sobered up the next day, each of the piercings were either closed over or too painful (most-likely more due to the hangover than actual pain) to bother putting them back in.

I didn’t think I’d ever get the labret done again. But here it is. Lars has been drawing this tattoo of a man burning at the stake, symbolizing his tortured soul, (he’s so utterly perfect, some nasty has to fit in somewhere, no?) since he was a teenager it seems. And now, he has that too!

And I’m still sick & dying.

By the time I got to work today, I felt like I could pass out. I got everything I needed done (and more). I’m proud of myself for this one, as I doubted my own abilities from the start. Anyway, it’s past my bedtime now and I shouldn’t be pushing myself still. We have another long day tomorrow.

I’m sick but that’s ok. It’s a tired, stuffy-headed, sniffly, sneezy, brain-in-the-clouds, kind of sick and not the I-want-to-puke-while-pulling-my-own-hair-out-and-shedding-my-own-irritated-skin kind of sick. I can live with this sick. And I’d rather be sick now than during Christmas or over the New Year.

And today, I was reminded once again how lucky I am. I was allowed to leave work a few hours early today – not really because I’d asked, but because it worked and I really am not feeling well. My brain already seems to want to turn off before 8pm anyway, so working until this time is harder on me than it used to be. I’ve spent the extra few hours I have cuddling on the couch, and re-baking the dinner buns I tried earlier but managed to kill the yeast with heat so they didn’t rise properly. This time, they rose perfectly. Now I know exactly what I’m bringing to our ‘Something like Christmas dinner on the 17th’. And they are good!

Tomorrow is Lars tattoo day. I cannot wait to tease him as he get stabbed billions of times over and over and over again. I cannot wait to see the finished result and to help him heal. I <3 him. And I love that I’m able to give him this (in a way). Even if he won’t tell me what he got me for Christmas.

Buns are about ready to beep at me. And my eyes are growing weary. I’ll sign off with a big breath of contentment. Life is good. Even when I’m sick.

Lars read that last entry of mine. Then, we opened a few early Christmas presents and celebrated ‘Us’. It occurred to us that we were spending so much time building up for one special day, we were kinda missing the ones in-between. So we celebrated. I left for Squamish knowing there was nothing wrong with us – knowing my everything would be waiting for me when I get home.

The week in Squamish was tough. On the way there, I got lost after dark. Lars' directions were vague, and the Port Mann construction meant they were void. Ramps no longer exist and the signs aren’t what they used to be. I fell into a raging fit of absolute hysteria. I felt like a little girl, alone, scared and so very vulnerable. I took it out on Lars. He let me. And then, when I calmed down a little, I realized I had my iPad. My iPad showed me my way, and secretly (under my tears and raging anger) I thanked Lars. His instructions may have been ass-backwards and confusing, but his gift is what showed me my way.

I arrived in Squamish shaken up and pissed off. I slept that night feeling like a bag of rattled nerves. It wasn’t the best way to start my week. The week was spent working – training our newbies, concentrating on closing the holes in our training process, and learning to improve myself. I have been working on being a nicer, more positive person as I am far too blunt at times. I’m thankful for having some fantastic guidance in my office. I really enjoyed being there and having an opportunity to learn myself.

When I wasn’t working, training or learning, or sleeping, I found myself concentrating on helping one of my very best friends cope with loss (mourning a little myself for her puppy who suddenly grew a heart too big for his body, and took his last breath in the middle of my visit). It’s all been emotionally exhausting.

I came home to find my gym almost finished. My weights are set up, my treadmill is plugged in, and everything is in place. When Lars was done with that, he rearranged our bedroom, just the way I’d suggested I’d wanted it. He is far too good to me.

I’m happy to be home. I’m happy to know that tonight I will sleep in my own bed with the man I want to wake up with every day for the rest of my life sleeping right beside me.

Lars and I aren’t at each other’s throats… but we’re nor at each other’s hearts either these days. We’re lukewarm, at best. Today while we were out shopping I snapped at him – I was on the verge of making one of those public scenes I hate so very much (and should probably be very thankful that he didn’t let it escalate but instead just stayed quiet). He was busy admiring the Dyson fans and I wanted his opinion on hangers (or maybe I was indirectly asking if I should bother buying them for myself, as he might just be as observant to realize they were something I really needed and want and may already be waiting under the tree for me?) The shopping trip wasn’t about him or me. I was going out to pick up gifts for the people in Squamish so they’ll be ready to go with me tomorrow.

I wasn’t looking at things for us (I’m pretty sure we’ve both already been spoiled for Christmas). I restrained myself from looking at things I really wanted. I felt annoyed and betrayed that he spent so much time on his own interests (like I didn’t notice the movie he had hinted he’d like to find under the tree at the store just before) – even if it does feel like it was just a few minutes looking at one fan to him, it felt like all day for me, waiting by those stupid hangers for a response. It’s not really the time of year for us to be thinking about ‘me’ at all and I would have normally just bought them for myself without blinking, but I don’t dare now, as it’s Christmas time and just maybe they’ve already been purchased. And now, we should be looking out for others. Today, Lars and my trip was meant to be about others… But it’s more than that…

I know how hypocritical this may sound. But I wasn't dwelling on, investigating or trying to spend any time on the stupid hangers - I just happened to notice something I think we need and didn't know if I should purchase them or if they've already been purchased for me. Lars was looking and learning about things for him. Earlier, I'd found lost him in the damn movie store as he was looking at (and eventually hinting at) movies he was interested in.

Our relationship feels dry right now. It has for a few days now. And I can’t help but wonder if it’s been longer than that and I’ve just pushed it under the carpets. I love him. I know he loves me. And our chances are higher than most who run off and get married these days, as it’s real…. But is this the dry, uninterested, taking-each-other for granted place couples find themselves in when they are so comfortable it doesn’t matter? He doesn’t make himself ‘pretty’ for me these days. I try to keep myself pretty for him. Maybe he doesn’t see it anymore? We aren’t as intimate as I want to be… I don’t know why. Maybe it’s just the time of year. Last year, this time, Lars and I almost broke…

Perhaps I just need to wait and see… In the meantime, it’s important I recognize and those around me (Lars) realize… I’m just not feeling it right now.

I’m leaving for Squamish tomorrow. I will miss you and I hope when I come home, things feel a whole lot better (for us both – as I’m sure if I’m feeling something’s off, so are you!).

It translates to:

my mother my heart
every sun must rise and set
(her signature)
July 23, 1954 – July 23, 2011

It hurt a fuck of a lot. But Lars let me squeeze his hand throughout – teasing me a little along the way. I smiled a whole lot too – being half naked in a public place was weird for me!

He’s scheduled for the 30th of November to have his sleeve done. While my little tattoo there took around 2 hours, what he has designed is estimated at 20 hours. I’ll only be able to pick on him for part of it, as I work late on the 30th.

I have mixed feelings about the way mine turned out. Jim is a very talented artist, but I feel the Arabic writing needs some work. In my eyes, it looks a little like an unlearned hand has written it – which is only natural as Jim of course, does not speak or write Arabic. I don’t think that he’ll have a problem thickening up the lines a bit. But I need time to heal first. He touched up the superiority stamp on my wrist and that looks a thousand times better than it did when dickhead finished it. Lars will have his touched up too by Jim.

We’ve had company all weekend, not a lot of time to rest or spend together. My father’s fucked his back up pretty bad and hasn’t gotten out of bed for a few days now. Pretty soon here, we’ll have to have the paramedics come round and get him, if the pain doesn’t let up. Lars has been tending to the birds, and I’ve been on alert – running up the stairs to help every time he screams out, or thumps loudly. I had to put the painkillers in his mouth and hold his drink up while he drank and swallowed them today. I’ve never had to tend to him like this before. Between the oddness of the situation, and my sincere fear for his pain, I shook as I assisted him in drinking and ended up pouring liquid all down his front – that he insisted I leave alone, even though he can’t move well enough to wipe himself up even.

I’m worried about him. Only once do I ever recall he’s been like this before in Dubai. He spent 3 or 4 days in bed and I remember hearing his screams as he tried to move. I hope he’s better soon.

Lars has come back from the pens. We’ve cleaned the kitchen and now we’re about to cuddle up with a drink and watch some crappy TV, play some video games. I suppose this is all for now.

Occupy Me… Misery Welcomes Company

I really didn’t want to get into this, but since I was so explicitly asked about it… here goes:

If an entire class of kindergarten students start screaming and yelling; one that he’s thirsty, another that she’s hungry, third that he needs to go to the bathroom, a fourth that she’s being sexually or otherwise assaulted at home, a fifth that his dad, the soul provider for the family just died of cancer and the insurance company didn’t give mommy the money they were promised so mommy cries all the time, one that he’s eaten so much he wants to vomit, another that the class bully won’t stop picking on him, the bully screaming that he’s hungry and doesn’t have lunch, a few who just scream to join the yelling masses, while others scream other woe-worthy situations, how the hell are any of these voices going to be heard? How are these problems going to be fixed? Does the teacher centre in on one and say allow the hungry child to eat? Will the others screaming accept that one problem was sorted while the rest were left on hold to deal with it? History proves not. That’s a recipe for complete chaos. Shall the teacher then walk out and hand the power over to the kids to sort out for them selves? As it seems to me, that’s about the only possible solution for that teacher to find any sanity – leaving the masses in complete anarchy.

The Occupy Movement is just that – but on a bigger scale. There are a LOT of injustices in our society. But screaming about them all at once is not going to do a damn thing, especially when so many things are contradictions in themselves, so many others just illogical. I read today one person sum up the movement as:

“A bunch of deadbeats who racked up tens of thousands in college loans in useless majors (“Art History”, “World Religions”, “Women’s Studies”) and are now whining because they can’t find jobs in their degree fields and the “evil banks” are demanding payment.”

Seems to me, from some of the initial interviews I saw from Wall Street Occupants, that this is EXACTLY how it all started. And I won’t support that at all.

Now, the Occupy Movement screams about the 1% - when there is no FACTUAL evidence that the 1% even exists: Poll: Are you part of the 99%?



I don’t support fiction- especially when it’s presented as fact.

The Occupy Movement screams about unfair taxes and big business, yet I know for a fact in the most recent British Columbia HST votes, many of the people supporting the Occupy Movement here, also voted to keep the higher taxes for the individual person (which lowered tax for big business), the HST, over reverting back to the lesser taxed public (higher taxed big business) GST & PST system we once had. I do not support to hypocrisy that seethes from this.

Combine that which I don’t support with the sheer numbers of people supporting this movement who continue to make complete asses of themselves:



…and you have a recipe for a moment I will never stand behind; just like I wouldn’t support a classroom of screaming children making countless demands.

There’s no doubt in my mind our society needs changes – many of them. I don’t believe these are the same changes as the ones Wall Street, or even the same changes that Ontario needs. Squishing all of our collective problems together, under one “Occupy’ front, simply reduces all necessary change as insignificant – ultimately unheard and unresolved.

It’s a bunch of wasted energy. Period. I don’t want to be a part of it. I don’t want to see it (camped in our parks, on our streets, or even on the news). I don’t want to add to the energy this movement is, in my honest opinion, wasting. I’ll fight my battles, and I’ll pick them wisely. This isn’t one of them that’s worth my time. I’ll use my energy to fight for causes I know I can win or at least help make change with; I'll keep earning charity for associations I can give to, speaking about the injustices I can clearly see and to the people I know can make a difference based on them - and I'll ask those who agree with me to support me along the way.

You fight your battles, whatever they may be, and I’ll respect that. In the meantime, I’ll share that I believe, if you want change you need to be change. You need to make it happen with a clear vision, one clearly definable goal at a time. Otherwise, you’re just a bunch of people celebrating your different grievances about life in general. And to me that reiterates the old saying that, misery welcomes company.

I’m not really sure how I’m best to react to your Facebook friend request. I don’t know where it has come from or why you’ve decided you’d finally like to be a part of my life. We haven’t spoken in 17 years. I am very angry at you – more so since my mom died. I’m a grown enough person that I know I can let go of my anger eventually. What concerns me more is whether or not you’ll ever be able to accept how justified my anger towards you is. It really doesn’t matter whether you do or don’t; it’s more that I don’t have room in my life for negativity of any sort – and don’t have the energy even bother if you won’t be able to accept me for all that I am including my feelings towards you. I don’t want to bother, if being me will be met with negativity from you.

I am a grown woman. I’m pretty content with my life the way it is. But that really hasn’t always been the case – and I blame you for a lot of it. I have a father. His name is Martin. He has supported me emotionally for the majority of my life. He is the only person I have ever and will ever know as a father.

I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. To be blunt, I can be a fucking bitch and I’ve said some really nasty things about you because I feel some really nasty things towards you. I won’t ever take them back. I won’t ever be sorry for the way I feel or the things I have said. As far as I’m concerned you deserved them.

What I can do is leave the past, the person you were to my mother and the person you weren’t to me, in the past. And if you’re willing to accept me for who and what I am today – even if that hasn’t always been the most flattering person for you, I can try to accept you for who and what you are today. I will welcome your entrance in my life as I would any long lost relative. If you’re not willing to accept me and my feelings towards you, I have no interest in being your friend – not on Facebook or elsewhere, and I would appreciate it much if you didn’t even bother to reply to this email.

I’ve been having a hard time with stress lately. A little stress is good; it keeps the adrenalin up and helps a person succeed. Not too much… Not so much. It builds up in me, and reflects itself in places it doesn’t belong in my life.

Friday night, Lars and I missed a costume party because I was too wound up to even think about enjoying myself. Saturday, I fell into a tantrum because I couldn’t find my hairbrush. We then spent the evening trying to find an open clinic so I could speak to a freaking doctor about how to best handle my stress, as that was simply ridiculous. The clinics were all closed, or no longer taking patients due to long waiting lists. We went home and to bed. Yesterday, Lars and I decided to try and battle it on our own.

We first went to the flea market, then to Incendiary Tattoos to introduce their new website and talk about the tattoos we’ll be getting in exchange for my work. We then went to the salon, where I got pretty nails and Lars got a pedicure. We wandered the malls, looked at wedding rings (for him and I) and then came home, where I we cuddled up on the couch for a bit where I fell asleep on his lap for a short while. Eventually, he got up and went to work on the shed; I stayed rested on the couch till it was time to make dinner.

It was a very relaxing day. And another day it made me thankful for Lars. Not many men would get a pedicure with you, just to help you smile. (I can’t wait to get the pictures up)!

Today was alright too. I was able to express how stressed out I was to my bosses. I’ve offered a few suggestions to help de-stress the entire office. And we’re all going to work on it together. I love my office. I really, truly do.

I love my Lars.

I'm pretty freaking blessed.

I gave Lars a greeting card tonight. It said, “I want to grow old and disgusting with you.” I’m pretty sure he feels the same and for that I’m pretty lucky. There’s another in the stack, waiting for the right time for me to hand it over. Perhaps, just maybe… I’ll hand it over once he’s had a chance to read and absorb these thoughts of mine.



I lost the true love of my life when I was a teenager. I couldn’t count the number of times I’ve written about him & our fairytale-like tragedy. I cannot, until today, forget the man he was, who he made me, and who he became without me, and I without him.

I never thought I’d find a man who’d take his place. And I haven’t. My true love is out there somewhere... And he can go fuck himself. I’ve found someone that means so much more. I found someone whom I know would not let anything, nothing at all get between us. I found a man who might just possibly love me more than I do him (as if that were possible!). I found a man who will fight for me. I found a man I can depend on, without a doubt. I found a man who knows everything about me, and truly loves me still. I found a man who is secure enough in us, that I can be totally honest with him about everything. I found a man I may not always agree with, but love him for him just the same. I found a man that is not my ideal or true love, but my absolute soul mate. I found my match.

Leah… I know you once thought he was your man. He wasn’t. Your man is still out there – only you won’t find him if you don’t stop dwelling on mine, as if he were ever really meant to be with you. You really do need to move on now.

Lars arrived home from Manitoba last night. He’s not allowed to go again any time soon. We missed him far too much around here.

With my mom’s estate issues coming to an end, Lars, my father and I are all planning the future now. We’re taking steps towards Lars & my wedding, me building a home (shhh!), and Lars and I either having or adopting children. At 30 years old, I look and feel better than I have in my entire life. I’m surrounded by more love than I’ve ever known. I am so incredibly blessed. If 2012 is the end of the world, I’d want just one last hug from my son, and I’d be pretty much alright with that.

Every morning you wake up fresh. Whole new sets of decisions are presented to you, because each morning is the first morning of the rest of your life. It dawned on me today, how profoundly true that is.

I’ve come to a place in my life where I realize can choose my fate. I don’t mean that like some godless atheist who thinks they can predict the future, their time of death, or is immortal, but rather, I understand clearly how my actions today will create my tomorrow. I choose to be happy. To be happy, I need to surround myself with people who make me smile. I need to do things I take pleasure in. I need to find what makes me feel physically and mentally happy and I need to use that information to take care of my body, my spirit and my mind because when I’m taken care of, I feel good. I choose to love and be loved – because that makes me happy. I choose to accept my mistakes and embrace lessons as they are presented to me because this makes me grow, and growing, understanding also makes me happy.

When the Whore of Lucifer was just 13 years old, she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Anastasia was born on Aug 20th, 1992. With the encouragement of my mom, the stupid cunt being no more suitable a mother 20 years ago than she is today, gave her baby up for adoption. Anastasia found us on Sept 27, 2011. I believe her biological mother Sheila has not succeeded in offering another person on earth a single good thing, but brought only pure evil to this planet and we who inhabit it. Having served no real purpose to anything or anyone, I believe she should douse herself gasoline and light a fucking match. But perhaps I’d missed something. Perhaps Anastasia is the positive purpose of Sheila’s otherwise wasted life? Whatever she is, we will embrace her as a part of our family. We love her already. We will care for her and support her as best we can. And we have 20 years to catch up on.

As I grow up, become more positive, more content, and so much closer to being completely happy, my family is growing. I can’t help but feel perhaps I just didn’t have enough love in the past for me, let alone for others. And now that I do, they’re all migrating towards me. When my mom died, I felt I could count on one hand the number of people I had to fall back on, the number of family members. In fact, I felt like I really only had my step-father and my brother.

Then I found Lars. And with Lars came a family full of love. Each and every one of his family members has done all they can to embrace me and mine as one of their own. They love us. They teach us to love more openly. They are there if we fall – and they’ve made sure I know that includes me too. Lars and I are beginning to plan our wedding now. We’ve been looking into renting a castle for the ceremony, and we’ve asked the greatest hippy we know to marry us. We’ve talked about children too, and have tossed around the idea of adopting, actually – but that is for another entry.

Then I found my brother and sisters. Renee came out with her boys and suddenly I felt a little more whole. Renee and I hit it off right away. For two people who lived such different lives, and who are such different people, we sure do have a lot in common; share a lot of ideals. I love her to death and regret not knowing of her sooner. I’ve yet to meet Brandy, Amanda or Adam and though I can’t wait to meet Brandy and Adam, I’m not so sure about Amanda. She has refused to talk to me at all making clear she doesn’t want or need another sister. She has hardly said a word to me in the months since I added her to my facebook and have reached out to get to know everyone. But then recently, she doesn’t hesitate to give me her address (without a pleasantry, a ‘thank you for thinking of us’ or ‘hello’ even) when I mention my I’m preparing my Christmas list. I can’t help but wonder how much positive energy there is to be found there. I’m starting to think maybe there’s not enough for her, let alone enough for her to share with others. Some people choose to be miserable – and though they blame the whole world for being at fault, they’ve chosen to take those steps that minimize the size of their world – the amount of their happiness, the love they let in. I know that way of life all too well, as I lived it for way too long. I can live without that in my life now. Though I do hope to one day meet her son and my biological nephew Kolton, one day. I have patience.

We had Thanksgiving dinner tonight. My brother, his new lady, her father and brother (who happen to be our neighbors, we'd never met until tonight) all joined Martin and I. It was a fantastic evening, though would have been even better if Lars was closer, especially as today is his birthday. He’s in Manitoba again, falling trees. I miss him a whole lot and cannot wait until he gets home again.

Anyway, it’s been way too long since I shared my thoughts here – and as such, I've rambled on and on and on when all I really wanted to share is, it really is up to you, your happiness. Forgive the long delays between posts. Turns out when you choose to start living life, there’s not a lot of room for much else (at least until you learn to organize your time a little better!!!)!

Such a busy non-summer it’s been! Most of it has been just brilliant.

I graduated my Web Design course – finishing with a final grade of 100% - after of course the Administrator corrected his typing error that initially gave me 97%. He blamed the mistake on others. I personally think he did it on purpose out of spite (I didn’t exactly make his life easy) – he probably didn’t count on me asking for specifics on how or why I was marked so low in the Flash section of the course. So when I did confront him, he blamed the instructor. When I copied the instructor on the communications and demanded an explanation for the mark and asked what part of the lessons I failed to get, my instructor assured me he’d marked me 100% across the board. The Administrator responded shortly after blaming another faculty member of the same first name as my instructor for the mistake. I don't buy it, but don't really care (I don't have to work with him), so long as my mark is corrected. My transcripts were corrected – not without fight of course.

Can’t really get much higher than 100%, though I’m not sure it’s fully deserved seeing how two sections of the course were taught by incompetent people and I honestly can’t say what I learned during those sections from the school. It really isn’t much of a school, but more a cash cow for the business owner. There’s no other reputable technology specific learning centre on the island – which means Q College can afford to financially rape students with half-assed courses taught by non-teachers. Out of an 11 week course that cost $7056.00 (inc. taxes), my entire class is asking for some sort of compensation for at least 3 weeks that were wasted by the school with crappy instructors with crappy instruction – it says a lot really when you’re taking about $641.45 a week. I did however learn a hell of a lot on my own taking online tutorials to cover the sections we were supposed to be learning in class. I’m still waiting on Q College’s promised reimbursement (either in cash or in lesson re-takes with qualified instructors). I highly doubt we’ll ever see it. To my knowledge, none of the other students have heard anything either.

Life goes on, and this almost-summer has had way more ups than downs...

I finally got to meet my sister Renee, and my nephews Brandon and Aiden. It’s almost scary how similarly Renee and I seem to be built:



We’re both the same height, same shoe size...

She is fantastic. My nephews are fantastic. And my biological father had enough respect for what I feel for him to keep his distance – I didn’t even have to look him in the eye. They came and left so quickly, it breaks my hear t to know I have such good family so far away… But at least I have them now.

Lars has left to Snowlake to take care of a Tree Falling contract for his father. He’ll be returning with his dad, and hopefully an excavator just as soon as the job’s done – however long that takes a few weeks or so. Crappy time of year for him to be in Manitoba. I hear there’s bugs. It’s weird to not have him in the house – not right. That’s something to think about next time I tell him I want him to leave out of anger. It’s not nice not having him here. We’ve had our ups and downs recently, but most of all, we’ll pulled through and we’re happy – still madly in love. He’ll be back soon, and next week I’m up and leaving to Squamish again for work…

Ahh, time for bed. My. Big. New. Empty. Bed. I miss Lars.

I forgot to set the timer on the TV last night, so I woke up this morning to the sound of a really annoying pro-HST commercial. Here:


Stickman: HST and PST+GST Rally from HSTinBC on Vimeo.

What annoys me most about this is how stupid our government thinks we are, and how so many of us are bound to prove them right with this upcoming election. We’ll do this by voting to keep the HST either because we sincerely believe that the 10% HST promised to us in 3 years time (like the government never breaks its promises) really is cheaper on us, or we’re greedy business owners who will now get a higher tax credit at the cost of our very own customers, or simply because the confusing way in which this election is being worded.

Vote YES to get rid of the HST and go back to the GST & PST.

Vote NO to keep the HST at 12% with a promise of lowering it to 10% in 3 years time, which still applies to more products and services than the GST & PST ever did.

What this commercial fails to tell you is that HST applies to up to 60% more services and products than GST or PST alone and is also applied to purchases that had no tax at all in the past.






The big financial benefits for HST in BC go to big and moderate sized companies who get to write off their HST and get a bigger tax back credit at their year-ends. How many average sized families in BC, do you figure get to write off their expenses in order to get tax back each year? There are slight benefits of HST that go to Accountants and Bookkeepers as having one tax over two simplifies their job and gives them the satisfaction of telling their clients about the large tax refund they should expect each year.

“It’s the one issue that most observers can agree on. The HST is good for most businesses, especially for big and medium businesses. The independent review concluded that consumers this year were paying $1.33-billion more in sales taxes, after rebates and tax breaks, and business is paying $730-million less.
The HST reduces the cost of production and simplifies bookkeeping. With the provincial sales tax, business paid tax on goods and services used in each stage of production, a tax upon the tax. But under the HST, the tax is applied only when the goods are sold, or the services provided, to the consumer.
The HST has been endorsed by several businesses and business organizations, from the Business Council of B.C., which represents companies accounting for 25 per cent of all jobs in the province, to the B.C. Guide Outfitters Association.
Not all businesses benefit. Smaller enterprises and service-based companies that were not previously subject to sales tax take a hit. But many smaller businesses are agile and adjust quickly to changing circumstances. After a year of HST, small businesses may be reluctant to go back to the time-consuming bookkeeping required by the PST. “

The rationalization that the HST promises to help our economy by making it more profitable for business is not factual, but it’s hopeful predictions.

“It may take years to find out whether HST provided a boost to the economy.”

”After 2014, the HST may bring in less than the PST. Without an increase in economic growth, the HST would be cutting a big hole in government budgets, roughly $3-billion over the following five years. In other words, the reduction in the HST rate to 10 per cent could make a significant dent in provincial budgets for years. The government would be financially better off by bringing back the provincial sales tax.”

Quotes taken from the 4 page Globe and Mail article here.

We all predicted the Canucks were going to win the Stanley Cup this year too…

Personally, I come from a family on entrepreneurs and small business owners. I’m hoping to venture into my own business at this very moment. I’m still voting YES to scrap the HST this year, because I don’t want to personally benefit at the cost of my society or my clients. Under the old GST & PST system, you’d only have to pay 5% GST tax on most* of my web designing services. With HST, you get to pay 12% on everything now and maybe in 3 years that will be lowered to 10% (still double what voting YES, will cost you)! My write-offs and my end of year tax back cheques may be smaller, but it’s a small price to pay to help lessen our societies tendency to help the rich get richer while the poor are pushed deeper into poverty. It’s a small price for me to pay to discourage more big business from inhabiting our society and hopefully encouraging and empowering individuals to become entrepreneurs on their own –the decent, old-fashioned way, with social-conscience.

The pro-HST commercials make me nauseous. It doesn’t take a genius to know the reality of the decision our society has to make here – and our government clearly thinks far less of our intelligence levels than that. Help us prove them wrong!





*The only web designing services that must charge both GST and PST are those that include executable compute program within the site.

I graduated last week.  My final project can be found  at: http://.chrystals.ca/connections, and a secondary site I built for Lars’ sister can be found here: http://chrystals.ca/bdivine.  I’ve also been working on my personal site which can’t be access at the moment as it’s password protected while in development.  I’m having a blast doing this – which is good, because I haven’t been feeling like work is going so well lately.  While at the start of this course I was thinking web design could be a secondary career, I’m now thinking I may have to make it my primary.  It saddens me a whole lot as I love my current company more than I’d have believed, but the passion that makes me so great at what I do there, seems to also be what’s breaking me right now.

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Our instructor tells us that when you know things like ‘URL’ is an abbreviation for Uniform (or Universal) Resource Locator or the ‘http’ in a web URL is an abbreviation for Hypertext Transfer (or Transport) Protocol and you understand what people are talking about when they’re talking of text sized ‘em’ and other random things like what XAMPP is, it’s official, you are a geek.

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