this is not a lovesong, it's a sonnet and damn it feels good to have people down on it

just a couple things

1. in light of the whole britney thing, peeps keep talking about the so-called sex video and such. well, i read an article in the 'paper' the other day stating that it could be britney's entourage behind the whole thing since it was so good for paris hilton's career, or- excuse me... 'career'. it just kills me how they call paris hilton's existence a career. i remember when that sex tape hit the net and everyone was all "ooooooooh, paris hilton doing it!!! ooooh, oh my god!". i recall thinking to myself, who the fuck is paris hilton and why does anyone give a shit?!
now here we are four or so years later and she's got a 'career' and everyone is all like "oh shizz, paris is so HAWT, did everyone see the latest picture of her breast/snatch/bad outfit!!!! ooooooh, oh my god!". and i'm thinking to myself, who the fuck is paris hilton and why does anyone give a shit?!

2. to all those people who feel a burning burning urge to fling various food-type litter out of their car windows (i.e.. chocolate bar wrappers, half eaten pizza crusts, big gulp containers, etc), stop that shit before i hunt you and your litter-loving progeny down and cut y'all stem to stern. seriously. two days ago i had to pull a rancid chicken wing bone out of my dog's throat lest it should splinter and lodge in his digestive tract leading to emergency surgery. there are garbage bins all over the city and thus no excuses for this kind of behaviour.

3. for the love of god, will someone please save brandon flowers from himself? i love the new killers album, tis currently rocking my world in a big, bad way. and yet, every time he opens his mouth it's all i can to just to resist the urge to slap a muzzle on his spoiled brat ass. (i say ass because that's what he apparently talks out of). recently, brandon has claimed that radiohead frontman thom yorke is washed up and furthermore, that he puts sam's town up against ok computer along with any one of u2's albums. in another interview, he said not only is it the best record he's ever made, but the best record ever made period. excuse moi, but it looks to me as though this is one mormon cowboy who's grown a bit too burly for his leather chaps.

and finally...

an open letter of apology to the poor cab driver from wednesday night:

i'm really sorry that i vomitted in your cab. first it was just in my mouth and i tried to hold it in, but then i thought there might be more, so i let it out. mostly it just went all down the front of my wool coat, but there may have been a small issue of leakage onto the seat/floor. i didn't even drink that much but i suppose that my current emotional state exacerbated the effects of the alcohol. also, i am aware that this is the second time this has happened in less than three months and so i thank you for your kindness as well as for pretending not to notice the smell.

signed,

adria

nobody ever pulls the seams around here

one day into the next day, another day like today or the day before, the day before yesterday, they're all the same.

i wish i was the kind of person who just didn't give a fuck. i'd like to try that hat on for a day, just for kicks, that 'i just don't give a fuck' hat; it's so hip and seems to go with everything. i've never been one to stay up on the trends but maybe this time i'll hop on the bandwagon. then i can feel free to walk around in my own little bubble littering, lying, complaining about the canadian government, judging everyone around me and emotionally abusing those closest to me and if anyone has anything to say about it i can just point to the hat and say, 'pshhh, man i don't give a fuck , can't you see the hat?"

oh well.
enough of that tirade.
what i really want anyway is just to not be so angry anymore so i can get on with my life.

i had more, but i'm kind of exhausted.

not blogging is the new blogging

it's a momentous occasion.

this marks my 200th post. that seemed pretty rad to me earlier today and i spent a lot of time pondering what i might write about for just such an event. then i happened to read that ubie has just published her 2000th post which makes 200 look like...well...i guess, roughly 10 times fewer posts. in recognition of her major feat and my minor one, all props to ubie shall be in caps and all props to me in lower case possibly with the allowance of a smaller font/italics as follows:

PROPS to ubie
props to dia

on to the post.

the human condition never ceases to amaze me. its layers are seemingly endless and always capable of escalating to unseen heights or unimaginable lows. what's even more miraculous is our inventive nature. given enough time and emotional attachment, i have the ability to take even the coldest and most self-involved of souls and convince myself that there is depth and general good-heartedness there. my mother has always maintained that i live in a dream world. in such a world, imagination is king and the resulting effects have often led me to heartache. some days it's my superpower, but these days it's just good, old-fashioned hubris.

i know what you might say. that it's karma or some equivalent, as then it lays the blame elsewhere- but then again, tomorrow you'll feel differently and then the next day and the day after that. yours are the sort of feelings that change like the weather, too shallow at the roots to be held onto for any length of time. not at all what i expected, and even as it all came to light- still i pretended not to notice. a year later, i'm nothing if not ashamed at the way i deluded myself. i can't think of an explanation for it now, but at the time i was deafened by the softness of your voice and what i imagined was held beyond.

"...too late, too late, too late. ever since the first day you held me by the waist and said, 'careful...or we'll get attached'. but it's too late. too late. and i'll never be the same..."

but you...you're just a lyric now. no deeper than the ink nor the paper on which you're written.

benny says hi

 

just our hands clasped so tight waiting for the hint of a spark

so saskatoon was a blast (a blast of freezing cold). 47 hours on the bus (good god) was slightly excessive, but i managed to sleep a lot (drugs).

seriously though- i like this country, and it was nice to get an up close and personal viewing of it. it's good for bonding. also, it was marvelous to see emily, who was my only friend (tear) and whom i've only just recently forgiven for up and deserting me for the prairies. to be fair, she has met a nice boy there and has finally found a circle of people who will not shame her for wearing the plaid lumberjack coat in public places. so i guess it wasn't all for naught.

in other news, just when i thought that benny was finally housebroken, he started peeing on the floor again. two days ago. it's so exasperating. is my lot in life really meant to be one of cleaning up dog pee for an eternity?

i mean, come on.

The coast disappeared when the sea drowned the sun
And I knew no words to share with anyone
The boundaries of language I quietly cursed
And all the different names for the same thing