Downwards

You know, I tried to hold out on writing a post simply because life has been the fucking shits and I’m using whatever energy I have left to not pack my bags and flee to somewhere warm like New Zealand. But right now, I don’t care. My blog, my rant and if people don’t want to read a foul mouthed person, then don’t read it. I AM WOMAN, HEAR ME ROAR.

Where to start... Oh yeah, how about May Long camping? Bullshit is what it was.

Our escape from the city to a place where there were no televisions, no phones and no computers turned out to be a fucking rave party of some goddamn sort. I knew there would be partiers, but are you serious? We had two groups beside us playing their lame trance crap until six-in-the-goddamn-motherfucking-morning. I shit you not.

And then, coming back home, made me realize even more how badly I’ve been feeling like shit. It was at that point that I fully understood Talking Shit About a Pretty Sunset by Modest Mouse.

I’ve been feeling like there’s something missing in my life. Don’t get me wrong, I do have wonderful friends and a wonderful fiance... but... something just isn’t right.

I’ve never been one to want to travel the world, but lately I feel like I’ve missed out on some glorious places and people. Most people would think, “Just go out and travel!” but it’s never that simple. It’s called a fucking stable job and a mortgage. Maybe it’s just because I miss my sister so much, who’s currently traveling Italy. Again. For the second time. Ugh.

Oh and about this job? You know, it’s not pleasant having to wake up every damn day feeling like you’re living a lie. Dead serious. I feel like I’m living a lie. The business world is not me. A desk-job, office life is not me. The attitude these people have is not me. THESE FUCKING CLOTHES I’M WEARING IS NOT FUCKING ME. The fact that I can’t wear skirts to work because of the tattoos I have and the fact that I have to now remove certain piercings (eyebrows, earrings, etc.) is not me.

But then what the fuck is me? Over the last decade, I have been one of the unfortunate people who’s had their creativity and ambitions crushed by depression. I envy those whose mind is only fuelled by their depression to the point that they are able to come up with creative works of art. I’ve lost myself over 12 years ago, and I’m not entirely sure who I am. So how the hell am I supposed to figure out what I want to do? I’m only bringing myself further down by working in this career.

But maybe all this is brought by the shitty weather we’ve been having. It has been raining non-effin-stop, and the moment the sun shines through the clouds it goes back into hiding and it starts pouring again. And this has been going on for weeks. FOR WEEKS. I CAN ONLY HANDLE SO MUCH FUCKING PISS FROM THE SKY.


Seriously. I received that in an email this morning. It isn’t a lie.

Now, let’s get into my issues my body is going through from all this crap. I’m not sleeping well so I’m always tired. I’m beyond irritable and on edge. I’m lacking an appetite. I’ve got the runs. Oh, and occasionally my eye will start twitching like a lunatic who just got sprayed in the eye with lemon juice.

I’m too exhausted, mentally and physically. I’m feeling like a lost child in a massive department store crying for help but there’s no one around to hear the cries because it’s after store hours and I got locked in.

Yeah, that’s right, locked in.

God, I’m losing my mind. I need to figure things out, but I need to figure out where to start.

100 Things...

...about me that you probably don't care about.

1. I first wanted to write one of these lists when I was 23 years old.

2. Two years later I'm finally writing one.

3. I've been told I'm tall. For a girl. (insert eye roll) I'm 5'7".

4. I tend to roll my eyes a lot.

5. My eyes are brown and my hair is dark brown.

6. If you tell me my hair is black, I will cut you.

7. I'm addicted to a few things. Chapstick is my greatest addiction.

8. I am a smoker who has been trying to quit for years with no success.

9. I hate that I ever started smoking.

10. If given the choice to pick between my chapstick addiction and my smoking addiction, I'd pick chapstick.

11. I'm allergic to chocolate.

12. And strawberries.

13. Yes, I realize that it sucks the hardcore.

14. People say I'm a picky eater. I prefer 'particular'.

15. I don't eat anything that comes out of the water, or anything that looks "odd" or has an unpleasing texture. This includes caramel, fungi, bean sprouts, foods that have seeds in them (unless I de-seed them... like tomatoes) and the list goes on and on.

16. I really do love food.

17. I have a horrific phobia of bees/wasps. Just the thought of it makes me want to cry.

18. If I could learn to play every instrument in the world, I would. Namely the tuba and bagpipes.

19. I currently can play guitar and bass guitar. Everything else I play would be considered noise.

20. When I was 19 years old, my eye cornea was ripped.

21. Yaarrr! I got to wear an eye-patch!

22. I skateboard for pleasure. That's it. Nothing fancy.

23. I love the season Summer.

24. Winter can bite me.

25. Did I mention I was born and lived in Edmonton for 13 years? The Winters are cold and freezing till Spring.

26. Calgary gets chinooks. Yeah, I know - It's not something about me.

27. I still love the cold, freezing city of Edmonton more than Calgary.

28. I've once lost a finger nail.

29. I've twice had alcohol poisoning.

30. I once puked and passed out in front of a church.

31. I'm certain God is still angry with me for that.

33. One day, I hope to not have such a potty mouth.

34. Until "one day", I say fuck it.

35. I've suffered from depression and it's ugliness since I was 14 years old.

36. I don't like admitting to it so I never talk about it.

37. I'm a pro at hiding my true feelings and emotions.

38. I've already had enough just typing points 35-37 out.

39. I'M A SUPASTAR!

40. My one and only sibling is two years younger than me. We're very close.

41. The bitch left me to go travelling the world and is currently living in Scotland.

42. I miss her a lot.

43. She and I like trying to figure out what genes we got from each parent.

44. We would be considered "mutts".

45. My hair used to be straight. Then I dyed it goth black and my hair has never been the same since. Any other hair colour that I dyed my hair with, never destroyed my hair the way the black did.

46. It was almost like the hair dye mutated my mom's straight hair genes and my dad's wavy hair genes took over.

47. Oh, I still have two wisdom teeth that need to be removed.

48. I don't handle change well. At all.

49. If I could eat one thing for the rest of my life, it'd be cheese.

50. I have 18 piercings and seven tattoos with two more tattoos waiting as a Christmas present from last year.

51. Don't assume I'm some crazy ass, wild freak because of that.

52. I'm incredibly shy and fearful of a lot of things.

53. I do open up to people after a while. Sometimes it takes months to be the loud mouth that my friends know me as.

54. My ideal vacation spot would be Venice, Italy. I'm certain there isn't a more romantic place than riding under the moonlight where the streets are made of water.

55. I'd have to starve myself for a month before going there. I'm sure I'll gain 30 lbs off pastries alone.

56. There are plenty of people that will tell me I could use those extra pounds.

57. I don't make it very obvious, but I'm the biggest sucker for romance.

58. I don't think that wanting to have a surprise bouquet of flowers delivered to my work is asking for much.

59. Yeah... I cry easily. It doesn't matter if it has to do with something happy or sad. If it tugs at my heart, I'll cry like a sissy.

60. But, call me a sissy or imply that I'm a wimp? Don't be surprised if you get a hard fist in your face.

61. Okay, so perhaps I've been told that I get vicious when I'm angry.

62. Maybe if I didn't pent up all my anger all.the.time. it wouldn't be like that?! HUH. PUNK.

63. I love lotuses.

64. And the colour blue.

65. I also like having a system to everything I do. A "routine" if you will.

66. Otherwise, I believe chaos will ensue and I cannot have that happen.

67. Why yes indeed I have been called neurotic before!

68. OH! I looooove Winnie the Pooh.

69. I was going to write another point about Winnie the Pooh until I saw that I'm on point 69. I giggled a bit.

70. Every Christmas I always receive a Winnie the Pooh item. My collection is large.

71. Ugh. My head hurts and I'm only on 71. I resort to Advil Liquid Gels too easily.

72. My favourite author is Aldous Huxley. I hope to one day own all his books, regardless of the fact that some are difficult to find and are expensive.

73. Since I've been 17 years old, I've been single for no more than a month with the longest span of singledom being 10 days.

74. I am not impressed by it, but more ashamed by it.

75. I never was much of a casual dater. Nearly all of my relationships were long-term.

76. I find humour to be a very important quality in any person.

78. I've only worked at two jobs and volunteered at many places.

79. If I could, I would go back to my job at Dairy Queen where I worked as the supervisor/cake decorator. Unfortunately, it does not pay the bills.

80. If I ever win a large dollar amount lottery, I would quit my current, well paying job and work at DQ again. I'd also pay off my parents' debt, pay for my sisters schooling, pay off the mortgage, buy a few items and save the rest.

81. I'm stingy with money. I always feel guilty if I buy something for myself. On the plus side, I'm always able to save money.

82. I don't think I could live without music.

83. Taking a walk and eating at the same time pleases me.

84. I like to think that I'm burning off the calories as they come.

85. Apparently over exaggerating my injuries is a hobbie of mine. I can't help it if I think I'm going to bleed to death if I get a papercut.

86. Currently I'm thinking, "GOOD GOD, when is this list going to end?!"

87. I've had the same email address since I was 14.

88. British Bulldogs are my favourite breed of dogs. If I had one, I'd name it Bubba.

89. My dad is wretchedly allergic to animal fur.

90. I'm allergic to cats and pollen.

91. I've recently been hooked on Iron Chef America. HAI!

92. I can only speak one language. I wish I could speak more.

93. Flying on a plane scares me. I don't care about physics; something that large should not be in mid-air. I've only flown twice.

94. When I fall, I fall hard. This applies to everything.

95. I didn't have my first alcoholic drink until a few months after I turned 18. The legal drinking age here is 18.

96. I'm currently PMS'ing. HAH HAH.

97. I tend to give out too much information. Like the above point.

98. I once played in a punk-effin'-rock band when I was in high school. It was fun while it lasted.

99. I really want to end this list with a big bang of a point, but I lead a relatively dull life so I'm not sure what would classify as a "big bang".

100. More or less, give or take, I'm relatively content with myself.

Time Warp

Looking back, through all my old posts, there were a few things that ran through my mind.

Like, geezus, maybe I should have censored some of that stuff I wrote about. But then I remembered that I don’t give a crap.

Or how some of my rants made me seem like a complete lunatic on the most bizarre combination of drugs possible. Then I realized I’m fortunate to be one of those people who do not mask what they’re really like in real-life and create a false online personality. I’m really as boisterous as I make myself out to be, but without the combination of various drugs. That’s skills right there.

Also, the drinking? The fact that my liver is even still functioning is a miracle. Understandably at the time I was going through a “minor” bump in the road, but DAMN, if I were my liver I would have said ‘fuck you’ and gone on a trip to the Bahamas. I am currently reporting that AJ-the-Drinking-Tank cannot handle the booze like she once did and prefers the comfort of her sofa than the floor of a random bar.

Aside from those thoughts, I really wanted to change the template that I had been using. I looked at what was offered through Blogger and didn’t quite like the selection. Then I remembered that I’m shit out of luck because I’m a complete n00b who knows nothing about creating a template or customizing it. Hence why this plain, boring, blue template is on your screen.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to shove Kleenex up my nostrils as I continue to battle this nasty cold virus.

The Return?

It's funny how when life starts to whirl out of control that I decide to pick-up where I last left and try to make sense of how things have changed in over a year.

I feel rather guilty for abandoning this for so long. I've thought about writing so many times and everytime my laziness griped a tight hold on me and I ignored the idea of typing out a sentence or two. Why? Because apparently that's how I roll.

I contemplated the idea of started fresh. New name, new blog, new everything. But it didn't quite sit well with me. I didn't write here for long, but I had all my stories that were a part of my history - my life. I couldn't just pack-up and go, and leave it all behind. Whether I like it or not, my past posts happened... every damn event... every damn word... and certainly, every damn emotion. Which, by the way, what the hell is up with the last post that I left off with? That'll need explaining. Lame. What was I thinking?

Much has happened in my world since October of 2006, both good and bad. I'm feeling slightly overwhelmed at the idea of updating everything that has happened. I'll be taking it one day at a time. Starting off with updating a few links because GOOD GOD so outdated.

I certainly hope I'll stick to this writing business. My world has felt so lonely without it. Much venting, bitching and creating chaos to ensue. Let the uncensoring begin.

It's Always Been You

Hi.

I honestly don’t know what to say.

I’d like to start off with a massive SORRY. I have been completely absent online and I suck. I am aware of that. There have been a lot of things going on right now that have been consuming me mentally and physically. No need to worry… there are just a few things I need to sort out in this thing I call Life.

I do, however, feel compelled to mark this date.

There is no real significance to this date, but for me, it means a lot.

I don’t want to say why, not just yet (because I’m a freak like that and I don’t want to jinx anything) but let’s just say that I have not felt this happy in months. I’ve got that feeling of hope and pure excitement.

This is something that I truly believed would never come… not after my many mistakes and due to bad timing over the years. THE YEARS.

I, honestly, have wanted this for years.

This, possibly, is my chance for true happiness. This time I will not screw it up or let anything get in my way.

Here’s hoping that everything falls into place. It’s definitely too soon to get as excited as I am (and I may be in for a huge disappointment), but at least now I have hope. That’s all I need to keep me trying. Hope.

So Stubborn, It Hurts

There have been a couple of occasions, in my life, where I was at the doctor’s office constantly (either every day or every couple days for months at a time). Because of my last experience with this, which was approximately 10 months ago, I have been so damn turned off at the idea of going to the doctor’s office for any problem that may arise. I’d rather stick it out and hope for the best (aka Oh God, I Hope I Don’t Die in my Sleep).

My latest “trying to stick it out” may come to an end if things continue for another month… or so… yes, I’m stubborn… I know.

Ever since May, I’ve noticed that I’ve been bruising a hell of a lot easier than usual (c’mon folks, you’ve seen the bruise pictures). And lately I’ve been feeling woozy and very feeble. I figure that by eating some food I’d feel better. Oh no, I tell ya, that doesn’t work. If anything, eating makes me feel worse. I’ve been back from lunch for an hour now and I feel like I’m going to keel over and die.

UUUGGGGHHHHH. I just want to go home and lie down. My food, my delicious food doesn’t want to stay down, in my gut, WHERE IT BELONGS.

I know. I know. Stop whining and do something about it. But let me tell you, my fear of going to the doctors and finding out that there is something wrong with me scares the living shit out of me.

*flashback of needles, ultrasounds and horrible, horrible pills*

If I start bruising on my face or start vomiting blood, then I’ll go to the doctor. Until then, I think I’m still good.

It’s still good. It’s still good. It’s still good. It’s still good.

Hah.

Falling Off Track

Yes, I fully realize that it’s been awhile. I have been swamped with work and it makes it so much harder to get anything done when I’m wallowing in my own self-misery.

What the…? Wallowing in my own self-misery? Yes, indeed. In a few days it’ll be two months. Friends keep telling me that it’ll get easier. In fact, I thought I was “there”. You know, the point where you stop constantly thinking about it and you’re there cheering yourself on, “Good on ya! You totally did not pay attention to the anniversary that would have been and that Fucktard packed up just mere weeks ago! No wait! I tooootally did not think that, cause like, I’m sooo over it!”

It has not gotten any easier. Or, at least I don’t think so. Alas, I need to push aside these thoughts and feelings because I feel as if I am falling off track with what I need to be focusing on.

Work needs to be done. Reports to complete. A gentleman to assure that “I’m in this 100 percent.” A team to cheer on. All this, and to assure myself that IT WILL GET EASIER.

Sometimes Ignorance Isn't Bliss

I will typically avoid talking/writing about certain topics for the very reason that it is extremely personal to me and over time I have perfected the art of “keeping it in”. This though, will be the exception because frequently enough I read articles like this one.

I wish, back 6-10 years ago, that they had publicly come out with this report. If I had known what the outcome was of taking this drug, along with a couple others, I would never have taken them in the first place. Back then, I never could understand why taking such a drug made me feel a certain way when it should be “helping” me. It was only until a few months later I was told that I should have been monitored.

After taking the drug for about a year, I realized that all they (the doctors, etc.) were doing was upping the dose and changing me from one drug to the other, or a strange combination of a few. Finally, I said fuck it and took myself off it all.

And you know what? I’ve done fine since then. Why? Cause I fucking rule like that. HAH. Sorry.

I admit, there are good days and bad days (or weeks, whichever) and sure I am not on anything for the anxiety (like hell I’ll go back on that drug shit).

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m absolutely not against being on antidepressants. In fact, if it works for you? Rock on, go for it. I just happen to be one of those people that had the opposite affect.

All in all, I hope that doctors, psychiatrists, etc. give patients a fair warning of what may happen. Never in my life would I ever want anyone to feel/act/do what I felt/did when I was on that stuff.

Hmm, which reminds me, I gotta figure out what the hell I’m going to do for life insurance since these fuckers won’t insure me because of my past. Like hell, I’ve been a damn angel now for at least 4 or 5 years! GIVE ME A DAMN BREAK.

k, thnx.

You've Been Warned

I fucking tell ya. There are some massive effin pricks out there and Jason happens to be one.

Here I am, Saturday afternoon, hoping to watch a movie that will lift my spirits.

So I go looking for The Big Lebowski. Hell yeah that movie rocks.

I look. I look some more. High and low. Low and high. Searching all around every nook and cranny.

What do I find?

NOTHING.

That worthless sack of shit fucking took MY fucking Big Lebowski.

Honestly? I am fucking close to trashing the entire fucking place out of pure rage and anger.

Someone is going to get punched in the goddamn face tonight.



Oh, and yes, this is being posted on Sunday because that thing called Blogger decided that it didn't feel like publishing my post yesterday.

Time Controls Us

Oh my effin… Am I seeing this correctly? The last time I updated was Monday? Geezus…

Things have been fairly hectic lately. I’ve been ploughing away with cleaning my place up, trashing all of Jason’s things that he has left behind and things he has given me. All in all, I threw out 4 large garbage bags full of crap. I managed to move things around so that the place doesn’t look as empty (e.g. moving my guitars and amp to where his desk used to be). Aside from cleaning, work also has been busy. The end of the month is what kills me… that and top it off with all the projects I haven’t been able to focus on, its been quite a mess.

Oh, and we can’t forget how much of my time is taken up by hockey!

Folks, I am so ecstatic to say that my team is moving on to the second round! Rock the fuck on, Edmonton Oilers. I have also managed to make a few new enemies (read: all the Calgary Flames fans at the pub). For those who are keeping up with the hockey games, Calgary LOST in game 7.

AAAAHHHAHAHAAH0AHAH0AHA0AH00HA0.

*insert massive maniacal laughter from Hell*

As mentioned before, I am probably the only person in Alberta that was NOT hoping for a Battle of Alberta. I’m not ashamed to admit that yes! I am still angry and bitter regarding the hockey season prior to the lockout. I’m completely and utterly outnumbered by Flame fans and I was the centre of mockery when my team did not get as far as that lame team they call the Flames.

NOT NO MORE, I TELL YA!

Sunday, May 7, Game 1, Oilers vs. Sharks. I am so there in the blue.

Moving Along

So tomorrow will be week #3 since the Fuckhead took off and my God what has happened since?! Plenty, I tell ya, plenty. Now, I can’t fit everything into one post but in due time I can gauran-fuckin-tee that I’ll get to it all. Until then, here is the short list.

First off? Why the hell was I not informed that it’s already MAY?! For the love of all that is deep-fried… I am completely spaced by this. I’m freaking out a little because on the 3rd it would have been another month anniversary for Fucktard and me. I need ideas on what I can do to pleasantly occupy myself from blubbering in a corner crumpled into a ball. Need.ideas.

Remember how I mentioned I was a cheapskate? Well, I went on a shopping spree! Clothes, pretty panties, THE WORKS. Sadly, though, it only cheered me up for about a couple days; then the guilt set in and I felt like a loser for spending so much money. Gag.

teehee. Also? Remember my haircut story? teehee. I decided that I needed a change to maybe aid in my shift and went to get a haircut at a hairdresser! Now, you’re thinking, “Good on ya!” No, no… BAD ON ME. This story will top off any of my haircutting stories. That I promise you.

I’d also like to mention that I have consumed more beer in the last 3 weeks than I have in the last TWO YEARS. It’s to the point that my stomach is making funny gurgling noises. If translated correctly, I believe it’s saying, “HELP. She’s attacking the liver with the liquor! LET US OUT OF HERE.”

Now here’s the part that may or may not shock anyone. Yes! I, AJ, have done it again! As mentioned previously, I have always managed to land myself in a relationship almost immediately after a break-up. I haven’t decided yet if I totally rule or if I totally suck for this, but I pulled it off again. I’d like to make it clear, though, that it is NOT a serious relationship. Its only been two dates, plus the initial meeting, but so far things are looking well. I haven’t decided yet if this is what I want but regardless, I’m enjoying the company. Also, I’m fairly lost with this whole “dating-thing” because I don’t quite “date”. The last real date I had was maybe over three years ago.

Lastly, and possibly the one thing that has been the hardest for me, I have slept ON MY OWN (ie. with no friends around to comfort my dreadful soul) for about a week now. It’s not that I am unable to sleep on my own, but because I had grown accustomed to a Fuckface (oh, I’ve got plenty more Fuck-names) sleeping beside me. I still get the terrified tension the second I know I have to start to get ready for bed, but hell; at least I’m doing it on my own. I gotta have some credit for that. The credit that I don’t deserve, though, is the fact that I still need to have a drink before I sleep. Without it, I will constantly wake up in a panic and take forever just to doze off. Fret not, in time I will attempt to do it without the drink.

Oh wait… I just remembered one other item that I have got to mention. EDMONTON-FUCKING-OILERS! Tonight, Game 6, 3-2 Oiler series. If the Oilers nab this one, they will be moving on to the second round. The part that I’m not happy about? The fact that the arch-nemeses, Calgary Flames, is also playing tonight with a 3-2 series. Ugh, yes, I completely realize that I live in Calgary and that I’m cheering for the enemy in the Battle of Alberta, but I was born in raised in Edmonton and my God they are still my team. Keep on rockin’.

Pathetic Love – Part 5 – The Return of Jason #2 (aka J)

To start off the big finale, here is Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 and Part 4.

When Jason #2 suggested that we meet up I had to inquire why. Why in God’s name, after what you’ve done, should I see you? Supposedly he was interested in seeing how things were for me and all that crap.

We met up at a pub/restaurant and immediately my heart skipped a beat. Ever since we had broken up, I had never once stopped loving him or wanting to be with him. Now that I saw him face to face I knew I had a goal. Get him back.

To be honest, it wasn’t that difficult. After he and I talked for a few days we had come to the conclusion that yes, we would like to give it another try. From the get-go we laid out exactly what our expectations, hopes and goals were. No surprises this time.

Just like any fresh and new relationship, things were great. We laughed, smiled, sexed and all in all it was wonderful. Shortly after we started dating, again, I moved out of my parents’ house into my very first apartment. It was a small, one bedroom apartment but I loved it. Living on my own was a huge adjustment; I was fending for myself in a battle of my own wits. Thankfully for me, Jamie lived 3 floors above me and Jason stayed over frequently.

Now I’m sure you’re all just waiting for this and guaranteed you all expected it, but yes, the time came when Jason and I were arguing again. This time was different though… we really tried to make things work. Hallelujah! Praise the Lord! Who would have thought? So, we dug through the trenches and pulled through every single time.

This next part is my personal favourite… Months later, Jason had finally decided to make another commitment in the relationship and he and I were going to find an apartment together. That’s right folks – together.

And you know what? We found a wonderful apartment together and it was bliss. After years of Pathetic Loves I had found one that I wouldn’t let go of! I can’t even describe the happiness I felt. We were moving in a good direction and I couldn’t wait to find out what would happen next.

Over time, Jason and I had talked seriously about marriage. I’m all, “OHMYGODOHMYGOD.” The man who has had serious commitment issues was actually thinking of committing!

Then one day, at the beginning of April 2006, I suddenly noticed something wasn’t quite right… I felt as if something between Jason and I wasn’t the same anymore. It was as if his mind wasn’t fully there in the relationship and that it was off somewhere else. This exact feeling was the same I felt the first time around when I found out that he hadn’t been as honest/faithful as he should have been. I brought this up to him and he dismissed it as me being paranoid… okay, fair enough, I guess.

On April 7 I brought my worries to him again. The feeling and worry hadn’t left me and I felt it was appropriate to talk about. I mean, that is what you do in a relationship, right? Well, he blew up. Next thing you knew he was angry and brought up a crap load of things that weren’t even related to what we were talking about. At that point, we stopped talking to each other.

On April 10 we finally spoke and discussed how we both felt. I explained my feelings and he explained that we needed to work on our communication. After that, everything was fine between us, almost as if nothing had happened.

The next day, April 11, at 7:30 a.m., he drove me to the chiropractor as per usual. I finished at the chiropractor later than normal and when he suggested us getting breakfast, like we always did after the chiro, I told him that we wouldn’t have time and if he could take me straight to work.

Once we arrived at my work we did our usual good-bye routine. “Love you.” *hug* *kiss* “Love you too.” Because Jason had to work a night shift the evening before he told me that he was tired and that he was going to go home, take a nap and call me when he woke up. This was an average routine with nothing out of the ordinary. So, as I left the car we hugged and kissed again, and told each other ‘I love you.’

I continued on my day, at work, feeling great knowing that we were able to overcome another obstacle.

By 4:00 p.m. I noticed he hadn’t called me yet, which is rather odd because he usually would have woken up by 1:00 p.m. I decided to call home to see how he was doing and there was no answer. I called his cell phone and it was turned off… it is never turned off… Back and forth I continuously dialled the home phone number and his cell phone number. Still nothing.

The second 4:30 p.m. hit, I left work and quickly caught the train to head home.

I could feel myself getting anxious and prayed that I wouldn’t have another anxiety or panic attack. Repeatedly I told myself, it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re getting freaked out over nothing.

As I’m writing this… I can tell you honestly that I’m trying to not cry and that my heart is racing a million miles per hour.

I reached the doorway and opened the door.

And all it took was one look.

To notice that things weren’t going to be the same.

His shoes were gone. The queen sized bed we shared was gone. The two end tables, the coffee table, his desk and computers, his clothes, his linen, his dishes, his television… it was all gone.

During the 7.5 hours that I was at work, he had managed to move all of his belongings out of the home we had made together.

All that he had left behind was a note… that he had left and was never coming back, to not even bother looking for him. No further explanation. And there I was, curled up in a ball in a corner of the room, crying my heart out.



Since April 11, he has changed his cell phone number. I have written emails in hopes for an answer and maybe some closure, but I have yet to see anything in my inbox from him.

Since April 11, I have written 5 parts to a Pathetic Love story in hopes that maybe it will work as the closure I need.

Since April 11, my anxiety attacks have increased to at least 6 times a day.

Since April 11, I have spent the majority of time sleeping over at friends’ because I cannot stand the thought of sleeping alone at what I used to call home.

Since April 11, I haven’t been able to fall asleep unless I take my prescription sleeping pills or have a beer before I go to bed.

Since April 11, I have been surrounded by friends that I know would never leave me like that.

Since April 11, I have cried more than I have in, possibly, my whole life.



I know it’s not the end of the world. With each day that passes I hope to become stronger and that soon enough this will pass. With the lease not up yet on the apartment, I will have to find a way to be able to cope with the emptiness that has been left behind.

Until then, I will continue to hope that maybe… just maybe… Part 5 of my Pathetic Love story will be the last time it’ll end in shit.

“…I'll pull myself together
I'll say that I'll forget her, I'll breathe
and I'll say she never hurt me
and look at it as learning
and laugh about the good and the bad
because I will live forever
we don't belong together
I know I'll be the better
one day I will make it through”
~ Silverstein


Edited to Add: By this point, on April 11, we had dated, again, for a year and 5 months. Grand total: 3 years and approximately 2 months.

Pathetic Love – Chad – Part 4

And again, here is Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3.

After Jason had ended the relationship I had a fairly negative outlook on that thing you call love, but I wasn’t about ready to give up on it.

A couple of weeks later I had met a guy named Chad. He was incredibly fun to be around and he definitely brought out the fun, adventurous side of me that I never knew I had. He then had asked me out and I went for it.

We had so much fun together, from almost getting run over by a guy in a wheelchair to finding billboard signs and stealing letters from them. We were very happy together.

Shortly after we started dating he got accepted to a school in another city. I was fairly upset with this because I didn’t know what to do in a long distance relationship. So when the time came for him to go we promised each other that we would always call, correspond through MSN messenger and make trips to visit each other.

This was working out well but his stay over in the other city wasn’t very long. He ended back in Calgary and continued to try to get into a school here.

Then on New Year’s Eve, something happened that to this day I still don’t know what it is. Things were different between us and we weren’t as happy as we once were.

As time went on, things were becoming more difficult.

Then it went from good, to difficult, to worse. I had found out that he had been cheating on me since day one. Literally. Pretty sad, I know. I must have cried for days and weeks. At that point I didn’t know what to think or do. In fact, just writing this out brings back horrid memories of a time that I would rather forget.

I was in love again and betrayed again.

We had tried for a few months to make things work: trying to talk things out ourselves and even seeing a relationship counselor. For some reason, he couldn’t stop lying to me… it didn’t matter what the lie was – it would start off small and then he managed to turn it into something so huge that you couldn’t even believe what he was saying.

Things ended badly between us and I was left confused, angry and sad – again.

Sometime during the last couple of weeks that Chad and I were together I received an email from Jason #2 (aka J). Shocking I know!! You’re all probably choking as you’re reading this. I figured, what’s the harm in meeting up with him? There were no hidden agenda’s… it was just to meet up for the first time in a year and six months and see how each other was doing.

…Yeah… I totally went for it… We met up and that meeting will lead up to the final episode of Pathetic Love Part 5 – The Return of Jason #2 (aka J).

Pathetic Love – Jason #2 (aka J) – Part 3

To read up on Part 1 and 2, please click here and here.

While Steve and I remained to be friends, I had my sights set on Jason #2 (aka J).

There was no way anyone couldn’t notice him. This man was 6’11”. No… I am serious, you read that correctly.

He and I met at a keg party and I admit, when I first met him I wondered to myself, “Hmm… large hands… large feet… super tall… the rest of him *ahem* must be quite in proportion too!” I found out the next day, from Jason himself that he really liked me. Naturally, this got me all excited.

Time went on and there was a party he and I were attending. Jason and I got extremely drunk and it was at this party he told me he loved me. You may be thinking… “Wait a second… how long have you two known each other to have him tell you that he loves you?!” The answer to that: maybe a month in total (most of that time was either when Steve and I were dating or ending the relationship). I found out later in our relationship that he only told me that he loved me because he wanted to have sex with me. Well it worked.

When we started dating, everything was wonderful. After about a couple months things started to turn to shit. We were arguing all the time about the stupidest things and it was non-stop. Finally, he had decided to call a break.

“Oh, it’ll only be about a week…” He said.

It wasn’t a week. So I said fuck it and enjoyed the company of a friend of mine.

Finally Jason wanted to get back together and so we did. When I look back on this, I really should have said screw you and good-bye, but I didn’t.

More time went by and we were back where we started… arguing about nothing.

And again, another “break” occurred. This time I wasn’t going to waste my time waiting around.

I had met Simon and what a guy I tell you! He was French and charming. All the ladies loved him and I was the lucky gal he wanted. Now for my dirty little secret… my biggest reason for dating him was because he looked like Justin Timberlake minus the curly hair…

I’m sorry, but I do have a strong love for Justin Timberlake! Ack. It’s bad, I know.

Simon and I had officially dated for approximately two weeks when Jason was ready to commit to the relationship again. By this time, things were already going stagnant between Simon and me so we had ended things on good terms.

I know what you’re all thinking, “What the g’damn fuck is wrong with you woman?? Can’t you see what you’re getting yourself into?!” Don’t worry, I did see it, but I still went for it. Jason was the one guy I truly loved and even through the arguing, he still made me the happiest I could ever be.

Jason and I started to date again.

And guess what! You’re right! It was back to how it was with all the arguing. Before you know it, Jason was being dishonest in the relationship and caused it all to go to hell.

After about a year and eight months of being together, he finally ended the relationship for good and there I was heartbroken and feeling rather stupid.

But my feeling of stupidity didn’t last too long. Up next the devil himself, a story of a male named Chad which will prove to be my Pathetic Love Part 4.

Intermission

Well, I’m proud of myself. I managed to last almost a week without breaking down, but I guess last night was the last straw for my emotions. I’d been doing so well trying to forget things and trying to think of the things that make me smile. It must be the complete lack of sleep, my poor appetite and the constant reminders that brought me down; in fact, I know it’s all those things. Right now, I need to try -again- to recollect myself. Until then, until I continue with my idea of venting and letting it all out, here are Parts 1 and 2.

Thanks for the support, y’all. (Please note, honestly, that’ll be the last time I use “y’all” – ugh.)

Pathetic Love - Steve - Part 2

To read Part 1, click here.

With Jason (#1) out of the way, I was ready to make room for Steve.

He.was.so.fucking.hot. Not too sure if I could describe him any other way. He and I started off as friends when I was 17 years old and he was 20. I remember the exact moment we first met, what was said and where we went. He made my heart melt. He was incredibly charming and intelligent to boot. At this point he and his friends owned their own successful business and were later published in a well known Canadian Business magazine (heehee… I still look and read the article occasionally).

His 21st birthday had come and gone and next up was my birthday… the big one-eight. I had invited Steve out with my friends and I to celebrate and it was that night (I admit, we rushing to get away from everyone) we hooked up. If you know what I mean. *wink wink* * nudge nudge*

Being with Steve was probably the most fun I had with anyone. He had friends who were DJ’s, which meant there were constant parties (and where there is one hot guy more are sure to follow).

He wasn’t particularly romantic (like getting me chocolates only to realize, gee! she's allergic to chocolate), but he had his own way of showing me how he cared.

There was one time I recall calling him while he was working. I mentioned, casually, that I was hunting down this good looking guy I saw. He’s all, “Hm. Oh yeah.” I’m all, “mmHmmm.” I then asked him to come down and meet me. The second I saw him walking towards me, I took out a piece of paper that had my phone number on it, slipped it in his pocket, whispered for him to call me and walked away. Later on, after he was off work, he calls me to tell me that some girl tried to pick him up. Then he proceeds to go on and on about her. “Oh, she was hot! I think I may try to get with her.”

Steve was also the first person to try and stop my pyromaniac addition. Well, he didn’t really try to stop me… but he’d take all lighters, matches, flammable products with him into the bathroom whenever he’d shower. Apparently he didn’t want to get out of the shower to find his place in flames with me in the middle with a satanic grin on my face…

Things between us were fun. Not great, not wonderful, but fun. At some point in our relationship, something went horribly wrong. I won’t say, but basically it changed the way we were with each other. There was sadness, anger, distrust and a whole lot of regret. We did manage stay together for a few months after all these emotions were brought in, but I always felt saddened knowing that in the end it wasn’t going to work out. To this day, he and I still look back and wonder what things would be like if certain events didn’t take place…

I am currently 23 years old and Steve is 26 years old. He still remains to be the only ex-boyfriend I see and talk to. Regardless of what happened between us, we are still there for each other when times are rough or when things are good. I will forever love him dearly.

The memories of late night to early morning parties, $2 doubles on Tuesdays, late night calls to the police because of psychos’ chasing us, bonfires with explosions and beer, his jealousy if another male looked at me, and the way he made me melt when he looked into my eyes will always be there in my fond memories of when we were together.

As things were coming to a close between Steve and I, I had become friends with a guy named Jason (#2 aka J). This would be the beginning of the end for me. Up next, Jason (#2 aka J) Part 3.

Pathetic Love - Jason #1 - Part 1

One of the reasons, that I’ve stated before, of wanting this site was to be able to look back one day, read my posts and never forgot some of the experiences and emotions that I’ve been through.

Where do I begin with this story…

First, here’s some information about me that the Internet does not know:

I love romance. Love isn’t even strong enough to describe it… I am also slightly embarrassed to say that in the past 7 years I haven’t been single longer than 3 (or is it 4) weeks. And no… that’s not in-between dating each male… that’s in total over 7 years… I am a very independent person, but I am unsure whether my relationship with males is me being dependable. To be honest with you all, I believe it’s because I adore the romantic company, being in love and being loved back… but shhh – I won’t lie – sex plays a part too.

Let’s begin…

My first encounter with love and a long-term relationship begun when I was in the twelfth grade with a guy named Jason (#1). A couple of my friends met some other guys and thought that I should meet their friend Jason. The first time we met there were no sparks, or at least not for me. One night I get a phone call from Jason mentioning that he and his friends were in the neighbourhood and were driving around trying to find my place. They’d honk the car horn and it would ring throughout the streets.

“OHMGOD. You guys are honking your horns at this time of night?!” I said.

Jason replied, “Yeah we are! Just let us know if it gets louder. That way we can make our way through and find your place.”

Well they found me after about 10 minutes of constant honking and (I’m sure) many angry neighbours.

We stood around my backyard for a bit and chatted the usual ‘how’s it going?’ Next thing you know, my mom was flashing the switch to the backyard light and that could only mean, “AJ! Who are those strange boys standing there?!” Fifteen minutes later he and his friends left.

The next day my friend tells me that Jason wants to ask me out. So sure, why not? The next thing you know we were inseparable. There was never an end to the make-out sessions or the sex. It truly was bliss.

Shortly before graduation, I noticed things changing between us. He was becoming more obnoxious and he was apparently going no where in life. He had been kicked out of school, kicked out of home, begun to love his car more than me and had no goals set for the future.

Graduation came and went. I had invited Jason to be my date for grad (um hi – my boyfriend), but he turned it down.

Him: Oh, well, I don’t like the people at your high school. They are a few pricks there that I played hockey with.

Pfft. Like I give a flying-fuck.

He told me that he’d be there for the after-grad, but when 12:00 a.m. struck and he hadn’t shown up yet I knew that I should stop holding my breath. Thinking back on it, he never did give me a reason of why he never showed up…

Days went by and I was becoming more irritated and unhappy; he seemed to be having a blast trying to see how far he could go in terms of annoying me. He had moved from place to place, unable to hold down a job without a proper education and spent what money he had on his car that kept breaking down.

At this point I was set it ending the relationship with Jason. We have had conversations about trying to make things work, but in the end it never did work. He would constantly beg for another two weeks to try to get things back to the way they were, but it.was.not.working! Then he’d ask for another two weeks… then another… by this point I said, “FUCK OFF, TAKE A HINT!”

Soon enough, I discovered the world of “older men”. I was still 17 years old at the time so I wasn’t about to jump into anything that could get someone in trouble… but I tell ya… I had my eyes set on someone… well, two someone’s.

First there was SP. He must have been 20 or 21 years old at the time and I tell ya, every girl loved him… absolutely gorgeous and absolutely not looking for anything serious. He ended up having a child at 18 years old (I believe) with girlfriend at the time. At some point during the pregnancy, they had ended their relationship and continued to make plans on how to bring up the child without having him neglected as the father. For the rest of my life, I will always remember him as the young, single dad that I made out with in various parking lots and recreation parks. SP was there for fun, but then there was Steve - a man who at 20 years old knew what he wanted and how to get it.

Jason (#1) ended up as a past nightmare, err, I mean, memory and up next Steve Part 2.

Until Next Time...

Tuesday, late afternoon, may have been the hardest point in my life in a long time. I can’t say just yet… I’m still trying to comprehend and let it all sink it. In the end, I hope I’ll be okay. Since then, it has been very difficult. I’ve lost all appetite and sleep is worse than what it was. Concentration is none. And just when you think that you’re all out of tears, it comes back, creeping up on you, like it never left. I’m trying to be strong. I’m keeping my friends close by. It’s times like these that I know who will be there for life.

Right now I am focusing on moving on and figuring out how I’m going to get there. I will try my best to not fall back on my most despised resort. Soon, I can only hope, that I will have two simple, but incredible words when put together, tattooed on my wrists. With these two words, one word on each wrist facing me, I hope that I can be reminded that when things seem overwhelming and that it feels like there is no escape or hope that I need to Stay Strong and not give in.

Stay Strong

in the most beautiful, cursive writing.

Until I can figure things out and try to get by without crumpling into a sobbing puddle, I will not be able to focus on anything else (aside from work, which has been very difficult just to get through the day). I hope that sooner than later I will be back to write of my stories that bring back such wonderful memories and that I’ll be able to share my tales of stupidity, excitement and if I can muster up enough strength… maybe even my tale of loss.

I’ll be around. You, the Internets, help me to take my mind off things. Whether it’d be for a minute or 10 minutes, your stories help. So don’t stop writing because I’ll be here reading.

Until I return…

Picking up the Pieces

What the hell is with this whole Picking up the Pieces? Easy answer with a kinda-but-not-really long background.

Years and years ago, I had a nickname that a boyfriend, at the time, gave me. It stuck like glue and even to this day I use it as the heading on my cell phone or sometimes I use it for user IDs. Nearly everyone I know (with the exception of family and co-workers), knows me by the nickname. It is appealing, intriguing and downright dirty. I would have used that nickname for this site, but here’s the thing… I do not want any of J’s friends finding the site. I have no problems with any ex-boyfriends finding this site and so forth, but honestly… J’s friends… we won’t even get into that topic. So I moved from one online home to another but it always seemed like I had to censor myself because unwanted reading eyes were following me. It also would explain why I no longer use real names in my posts, but rather, I use abbreviations or use a name that is similar. I hated having to censor what I was really feeling and thinking… fuck that, eh? What would be the point.

I could have easily said screw it and not bother creating another online site, but I thoroughly enjoy reading the stories that I come across, as well as I do enjoy sharing mine. The best reason that I have for writing these stories is not only for entertainment purposes, but because I take pleasure in looking back at the things that I have done, thought or seen. All of these tales remind of accomplishments or mistakes that I hope I can learn from, not to mention all the endearing memories I have of certain people throughout my life. Never in a million years would I ever want to forget the following: cutting my own hair… twice; the numerous dumpsters/alleys/etc. around Calgary that have been marked with the signature AJ Urine Territory (I’m classy, I know – I was drunk); my friendships with Jamie, Cammy, Char, Derek, Whitey, etc.; and my absolute favourite… the list of boyfriends I’ve been with.

For me, it’s all about picking up the pieces of my past, learning from them and taking these memories with me without falling flat on my face into a pile of shit and becoming a dumbass who repeats her mistakes (except for the AJ Urine Territory thing because if you were as drunk as I were, all those times, with no toilet in sight but a rolling hill covered in trees and only Jamie as your look out, you would have done the same).

Like No Other

I have an enjoyable group of friends that I love dearly, but one in particular stands out above the rest. That friend would be Jamie.

On Saturday, he and I hung out and as always it was a blast (I seriously think it's impossible for us to have a boring time together). We have always managed to make the best out of every situation. We've been drunk downtown and rampaged through the streets; he's dealt with having me pass out drunk on his bathroom floor for three hours while he waited outside holding his piss; we've passed five hours of time just playing guitar and singing. He can get me to do nearly anything by telling me that I'm his best friend and that he’ll loooove me forever (like a damn road trip to his old shit-town in pouring rain listening to some rockin' CCR all the way there and back).

What a friend. Here I am passed out and all he can do is photograph me. (Click the photo for a great description of what happened)

He's the only person I know of that I can be my typical, bitchy self without worrying what the other person may think. I certainly can't tell anyone else that they are pissing the fuck out of me and I want to push them off the edge, and he's the only person that can punch a pillow and tell me that he was imagining the pillow was my face.

Back in the day, when I lived on my own, Jamie and I lived in the same apartment building. There is nothing more fun than having your best friend a few floors above you (not to mention all the skateboarding we got done at 11 p.m. at night and the three liquor stores all within walking distance).

The best was making pasta from scratch... which only took us over an hour to figure out.

I have known Jamie for six years and during that time we have survived all the ups and downs that a messed up guy-girl friendship would have. He has learned ALL of my deepest and darkest secrets. We’ve managed to talk to each other about everything – even our first relationships and going through puberty.

When I was going through a rough time with breast infection/cyst, he was there to cheer me up and tell me that I looked HOT with one massive boob (okay, he, too, laughed a little at my situation). When we were going through tough relationship break-ups, we've supported each other and told each other that the ex-significant other was a twat. When either one of us needed a date for a wedding or a party situation, we'd go along and pretend like we were an item. Hell, we even have a marriage pact.

Some guy holding a beer up to Jamie's ass.

Yeah. These are the kind of pictures I take after a bit of drinking... Keep in mind, this picture was taking years ago.

One of my biggest fears is that Jamie won't be around forever. In the last couple of years, he has been travelling to Vietnam and now he's thinking about leaving again for a much MUCH longer time. Every time that he has left, I tried to get him to stay by telling him that he'd be leaving illegally (because, you know, he didn't sign the Official Papers of Leaveance - shhh... I know it's something I made-up in my mind). I must figure out another excuse for him to stay behind (goddamn he's too smart - he figured out my Official Papers of Leaveance is fake!)... otherwise who else would tell me to "fuck off"?