Saturday, May 13, 2006

love, the Gingerman, and psychos

There is no combination of words
I could put on the back of a postcard
And no song that I could sing, but I can try for your heart
Our dreams they are made out of real things
Like a shoebox of photographs with sepia tone loving

Love is the answer
At least for most of the questions in my heart
Why are we here and where do we go
And how come it's so hard
It's not always easy and sometimes life can be deceiving
I'll tell you one thing
It's always better when we're together...

I believe in memories, they look so, so pretty when I sleep
And when I wake up, you look so pretty sleeping next to me
But there is not enough time
And there is no, no song I could sing
And there is no combination of words I could say
But I will still tell you one thing - We're better together
-Jack Johnson - Better Together
I adore waking up to Jack Johnson. Even when it makes me sad because it reminds me of waking up with Kylie last summer and feeling so overwhelmed by love and pain and longing that I could barely breathe. I love it anyway. That pretty boy from Hawaii reminds me of what I should always know about myself -- that underneath several layers of sarcasm and defense mechanisms, I am really one of those hopeful romantic types. And I should probably let that part of me float to the surface more often.

I had a funny dream last night that Sophie, one of my best friends from back home, had decided to tell me that she was in love with me and had been for years. I was going to the university my brother goes to now, and I was coming home from school when I ran into this meeting of all my friends and family that she had convened in order to tell me her big news. It was, to put it lightly, not a favourable situation. I wanted to tell her that I was flattered, but was really in love with Hayley, and she knew it, but of course I couldn't say anything in front of so many people and because I didn't want to hurt her feelings. She's always been a sensitive soul, and I couldn't possibly crush her like that. Meanwhile everyone was crowding around and congratulating us as though this was a done deal and totally meant to be, while in my head I was screaming "NO! I love someone else! And you all know this!!"

It was strangely scary. This morning I had a conversation with Cait about whether it was worse to have someone you didn't love profess their feelings for you, or to tell someone you loved them and get totally shot down. I definitely think the latter is the worse scenario by far, but then I am always terrified that the people I love won't love me back. I'm not afraid of bees or heights or travelling alone or speaking French to strangers, but I am afraid of being secretly unloved.

I am also fully capable of practicing excellent netiquette, and as such I will tell you that the photo above is of Jag's awesome cat Gingerman 2, who I love probably as much as anyone can love a cat they only got to hang out with for a few days. I'm so glad he's okay after his perilous and also fairly impressive fall from Jag's balcony. On the one hand, I want to tell him he's the man for surviving such a plunge, because it was so James Bond of him. On the other hand, I want to tell him to stop scaring Jag and preserve the rest of his furry lives so his kitty goodness can be enjoyed for years to come.

Here's to you, Gingerman 2. I raise my glass of way-to-go-but-don't-do-it-again to you.

In other news, I have another internet stalker. She's this truly psychotic woman on the same local site I met Hayley on, and while I've never spoken to her or met her, she sends me dozens of very graphic and bizarre messages and posts taglines on her profile about how slutty and lame she thinks I am. She's decided, without any input whatsoever from me, that I am a) a prostitute, b) an adult film star, c) a stripper, and d) eager to share information about my sex life with her. I just don't get it.

The only upside of the situation is that when Hayley found out that she was posting mean and nasty things about me she sent me an email saying that she wanted to do something, anything, to help me get this woman off my back. I find the whole situation to be really more funny than anything else, but I also found Hayley's protectiveness to be really sweet. She told me she can't stand when psychos are mean to people she cares about. God, I love that girl. Now if only I could find out if she loves me back...

Anyone wanna read some crazy messages from my new stalker??

They are funny as all hell.

If you'd like to read them and chuckle, leave me a comment and I'll post a couple excerpts.



by Nome at 8:06 AM
3 mews

    Welcome. This is the humble chronicle of my life & my thoughts on the world as I see it. If you know me in real life and want to keep my trust, PLEASE ASK BEFORE READING! I'm not accountable to you or to anyone else for what I say in these pages. Comments are much appreciated, but but insults and personal attacks will not be tolerated. Please respect privacy and anonymity - nicknames or pseudonyms only. This is my space to be an adult - kids should go elsewhere. Thanks, and enjoy.

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