Forever Tainted

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.