Forever Tainted

Where are my words and why does it matter that I cannot find them now? You are not here to hear them.

I thought to call you last week for some puzzle I was faced with, but opted out of disturbing you with such a trivial thing. I wish I'd instead taken a moment to dial your number just to say 'Hi dear friend. It has been too long. I miss you. How are you doing?'

You taught me Tareq, so many things by simply being. Where are the words to express that you have been with me every step of my way? And why must I find them when you are not here to hear?

These are the questions as those we once pondered together till dawn, dear friend, and now they are simply words lost in the wind. My life will never be the same with the knowledge that you are not here to respond. Your voice I'll never again hear. So selfish I am in this way - thinking of me when it's your turn to shine. And you loved me anyway - how much that says about you.

I miss knowing you are always there, already.  I love you and am so glad I made sure you knew when your ears were able to receive.

I have cried for two days now Tareq, and I'm certain I'll cry many more. I know you would not approve... But I hardly ever listened to you anyway. At least not right away. Perhaps when my eyes have had a moment to dry and my heart is ready for the next blow, the lesson you're meant to teach me now dear friend, will make itself clear.

Until then, please world let me mourn this tragic loss for humanity too many of you never knew.

Having breakfast at Sophie’s Place with my dad and Larry yesterday, I realized that one of my earrings is missing. These are the diamond studs Lars gave me a few weeks before Christmas. They match the tennis bracelet I unwrapped from him on Christmas morning.

When he gave both pieces to me I mentioned that I’d probably lose the earrings and break the bracelet (it being so dainty and all). He told me to wear them and that so long as I get to enjoy them then if they broke or were lost then it is what it is. Yesterday when I realized an earring was missing he reminded me that he could and would find me more shinies.

None of this makes me feel any better. I don’t want more earrings. I want those ones. I found the backing next to my side of the bed but I cannot find the actual stud. I feel as though I’ve looked everywhere and I keep hoping I’ll just roll over in bed and find it in my fingers or something. That’s probably not going to happen. But hell, it’s a good enough reason to go back to bed now.

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.

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!).

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’ll wait for you there, like a stone.

I’ll wait for you there… alone.

The last 24 hours have been emotionally, psychologically, and physically exhausting.  I am going to sleep like a baby tonight.

In a month and a half, I’ll be turning 30 - or what I tend to answer when people ask: 25 for the 6th time. I’m not sure why people want to interpret that for twenty-five times six, when I really mean, when I turned 25 it was the 1st time, the following year it was the 2nd time, so on, and so on. Perhaps it says a lot about people’s psyche. Perhaps it says a lot about my own. I don’t know. I just know that as per usual, what seems commonsense for me… isn’t so much for the majority.

I don’t really have an issue with being 30. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to embrace getting older. I’ve spent a lot of time letting go of a childhood and a youth many argue I never really got to have. As I get older, I get a greater understanding. I got to have both a childhood and a youth. Mine was just so very varied from others; I got the chance to have a different perspective, a different view of the world and my life as well as others.

I had a great childhood, full of alcoholism and poverty. I had brilliant youth, full of learning to love and lose, and all else that is great in the world. And now… now I’m having a great adulthood. The only thing that is really lacking is my eagerness to be a child again.

And no… I don’t mean be a child in the sense that most would. I mean be a child when it was easy to stay in touch with those you love: when making time, space and putting effort in to be with those who meant the world to you was effortless. My regret is not making a better effort.

Tonight, I spoke to an old friend. Or rather, he feels a lot like an old friend though, I really haven’t known him long enough to call him that: maybe a year or two. The point, I love him with all my heart – yet I don’t talk to him daily, weekly, or even monthly. Today after we spoke, I sent him a text wishing we both make a better effort to stay in touch in the future. I’ve made that request before of other friends… it’s just that tonight I realized how important it might really be to follow through.

I’ve lost the one person I love and admire most on this planet. In light of that, I realize how important it is to keep those you truly love close to you. Know, that if I’m pointing this at you (and even for some of you I haven’t because it hasn’t occurred to me you read my blog or didn’t know it already even), I love you. I want to thank you for being a part of my life.

I woke up this morning to a surprise. For a few days now, I have been trying to get in touch with my son, and for a few days he has been trying to call me right back. But with exactly 12 hours difference, it means one of us is almost always sleeping. This morning, he sent me his very first, ever, text message:



Ali has had his own mobile phone since he was 3-years-old. During the divorce of his father and I, it was about the only way I could get in touch with him while his father was around. And now, it means I can usually get in touch with him without having to go through the hoops of talking to my former in-laws. I’m fine with that – so please leave your criticism about cell phone and kids at the door.

Seeing this text message warmed my heart. Of course, the first thing I did when I opened my eyes was called him and he sounded lovely – as always. He politely asked me to hold while he talked to his cousin, then he enquired about whether or not I wore glasses. He remembers a photo with me wearing sunglasses. He explained that no one helped him with the message; he sent it all by himself. He told me he loved and missed me and mentioned that his health was good. He said that he’d like more mail from me – so I’m going to make a point of sending him just that. And finally, he explained that he was getting an average of 92% in school this year.

I miss him.