The Intensive Art

Tegan and Sara are on my iPod. It makes for good, late-night,
winding down music. A little bit rock and roll, but still gentle,
with lyrics to sooth. I just downloaded their most recent latest
CD from iTunes. Interestingly, Tegan and Sara went to the same
high school as I did. I was in grade twelve when they were in
grade ten if I remember correctly. It was a school of about three
thousand though, so I certainly can’t claim to have known of their
existence.

I had a great day today. I slept like a baby last night. I
was exhausted from my long day of jogging, dieting, birthday parties,
and working. So, last night, it felt incredible to fall asleep in
R’s big bearish arms. I slept for ten hours straight and woke up
in his big bearish arms. We immediately hit Tim Horton’s for
coffee…

I can’t believe I have been going to Tim Horton’s. I feel like
such a Starbucks traitor. But R despises Starbucks, and I’m
always the accomidating, comprimising one, so we go to his favoritei
place — Tim Horton’s. I suppose it’s not that bad. They’re
easier to find, and I’m positive they put a secret ingredient in the
sugar…that stuff is better, and more addictive, than crack-cocaine.

We headed to Crossroads flee market. Nothing overly exciting
there. We had perogies and cabbage rolls for lunch. They
were made by an old Ukranian woman. They were incredibly
declicious. After that, we spent a couple hours browsing the
junk. Really, it wasn’t much better than your average garage
sale.
Then, it was off to Chapters. I picked up a book on Jogging that
is meant for beginners. I think it will be good for me…it gives
a thirteen week plan for getting into jogging. The plan starts
you off gently, and works you up to an hour jog. We’ll see how I
do. I’m not exactly known for my will power and level of
commitment. I also got “Wicked: The Life and Times of the
Wicked Witch of the West.”I have been listening to the music
from the broadway musical “Wicked” which is based on that book, but I
can’t quite piece together the story line (I hate that they cut out
dialogue on Broadway soundtracks…it isn’t like there’s a lot of
it!). Anyway, I can’t wait to read it.

After that….it was off to Cochrane for some ice cream. The ice cream store there makes the BEST chocolate ice cream.

Then…a lonely night of studying, Desperate House Wives, Grey’s Anatomy, and Tegan and Sara.

Just your average, gentle, rainy Sunday…

Pyrsos

So, last Sunday I woke up at 5pm. Its amazing how througout the week my alarm clock screams me out of bed at 4am, but in just two days of weekend I’m waking up at 5pm. Its mostly because I’m so exhausted by the end of the week that I sleep for about 15 hours Friday night.

After a long procrastinating cigarette I began with cleaning my sister’s appartment in an attempt to leave it even better than I found it. I said goodby to the cats and the television and the bed that allows me to sleep. I left withing a couple hours of waking up, anxious to have my computer and my cat back.

Monday it was back to work. It was a holiday so not much was happening at work. I ended up leaving at 8:30, and immediately went home and went to bed. I woke up five hours later, and then went back to bed around 9pm at night. I don’t sleep as well in this house. Its like ten hours of sleep only feels like five. I have to sleep twice as often.

The days begin to blend into another and before I know it its already Wednesday. Everyone at work was in a horrible mood, and we decided that something had to be done to reverse these feelings. I had won a gift certificate for the Delta Bow Valley Conservatory restaurant for a hundred dollars. This is one of THE nicest restaurants in town and we felt that a night of pampering would be a fabulous way to make us feel better.

To make the day even better we decided to shop! We were going to a nice restaurant and just HAD to buy ourselves new outfits to go in. So, in all our exhaustion and negitive moods we hit the downtown high end shops. Although I only came out of there with a sweater and Dayle and Amanda (eyeshadow girl) didn’t buy a single thing. We were feeling wonderful as only shopping can make a person feel. It was time to go for dinner.

I’m from a fairly upper middle class family, therefore I’ve had many chances to dine in five star restaurants and stay in immensly expensive hotels. I’ve ridden in stretched limosines and chatted with prime ministers who have known my mother by name. I’ve sat three seats down from Ralph Klein at $1000 a plate dinner functions. I’ve lived, if only for short moments, as the rich live. Dayle and Amanda however have never even come close. Amanda is from a very small town lacking any elegance, and Dayle is from a farm family. They had never seen anything like this. It was almost fun to see their puzzled looks when the Host took our coats for us, or when he place the napkins on our laps for us. Their eyes lit up by the feeling I know well. When you’re here, you become one of “them” you are the one of those people that everyone wants to be. You get to have the good meal, the people that worship you for your money. You are one of the “important” people of society. At least for the duration of the meal. That feeling where you simply know why people get carried away with money. To be treated like this is a drug. To be looked up to makes you feel high. The meal is so wonderful it might as well be heroin. The girls, and I must admit myself, were entranced. We spent hours there, knowing that as soon as we leave, the high will be over. That when the Concierge closes the door to the cab for us, we will instantly become normal people again. People, who in reality are making less money than the poverty line. Its a game not of pretending, but of becoming. For four hours we became rich. To give this high to two people that have never had it before was an amazing feeling. We were all in good moods.

Amanda especially leaned towards a euphoric feeling that night. She moved from her small mountain town origins to Calgary a year and a half ago, and hasn’t had a chance to go back home until today when she was told that her vacation time was approved for next week. I dream of having a home to go back to. I’ve lived in Calgary since the day I was born, and I’ve always been home. In the last couple years I’ve discovered a personal philosophy in which home is a place you go back to….not live in. Calgary is definately my home. It always will be. However, I want it to be that special place that I wait with every fiber of my being just to get to go back to. I sick of home, I need somwhere else!

My parents arrived home on Friday and I must admit I was sad to see them home. For two weeks I had the houses that I lived in all to myself, and now I have to share again. It was interesting though, my mother asked me, “If you could go somewhere on vacation, where would you go?”

I replied, “India….of course”

“…uhm…more realistic” she rolled her eyes at me.

“I want to see the sunsets in Vancouver again, or go to Halifax, for a million reasons.” I waxed poetic…

“Well your sister and I were discussing that you always house sit for us, but never get to go anywhere, perhaps if you want to go somewhere, your plane ticket will be covered.”

The possibilities have now become more interesting….where to go?

would I want to come back?