PAPARAZZI

Who we are in private is sometimes someone completely different than what others think.

Things have settled into a pretty nice routine. Summer's getting on, and it's kind of just passing me by. Which, while it sucks, is kind of nice in a way, to bury myself completely in work again. Of course I'm doing it all for the money (otherwise I'd give myself a bit more of a break) but if I wanted to, I could give myself a bit of an out - it turns out that I'm eligible for a little over $13,000 from OSAP. What a relief! Now the problem comes in the form of how to make the claim work. Since we technically have to say we're almost entirely living off of child support... I mean, to be honest, I don't know where the money is coming from. I don't know how we afford how we live, and maybe that should scare me a little. It's a bit damn irresponsible to be honest. Sigh. We'll have to see if my claim processes. I just want $4,000-6,000 of the money, the rest I think, hopefully, I'll be able to have from the work I've been doing myself.

I watched a pretty interesting show today called the 100 Mile Challenge. The premise basically talks about how people in the city of Mission (which I think is in British Columbia) have to eat food purely produced from 100 miles around the city. I'm kind of tempted to try it, but it looks difficult at the same time. We're talking no coffee, no sugar, hardly and fruit, no milk... I would love to try regardless. For a couple of weeks, I don't know if I could last the whole 100 days they do in the show. But it's truly a life change. Not simply something to just... try. It's revolutionizing the way you eat, and I think I'm just a bit apprehensive of that. But the families that were featured in the show were interesting. There was one, the Mcintoshes, that dropped out the first day. The husband was unwilling to commit. I could tell the marriage was in trouble, from the moment the husband wouldn't come home to spend his last pre-100 mile meal with his family. Just... stayed at work. Didn't even seem to care. I wonder how people stay in a marriage like that, where one party just openly is disinterested in the efforts of their partner... I wish her luck. The wife, that is. She looked just so sad...

I'm dying! School's been pretty difficult lately, and I've finally chosen my final topic. I'll be talking about Nintendo, who, despite the number one position, could be doing better. And better exemplifies business then talking about making even more exorbitant amounts of money? I've got a good idea of what I want to do with it, and I'm just crossing my fingers that it translates well - thankfully I've found a good amount of research already. What gets me down, however, is how my TA for the class blatantly told me that it was almost impossible to get more than 75% on any of the written reports. I hate that. How it's simply designed to make you fail. What's the point then? You're not rewarding intelligence, merely picking at the technicalities of it. That's not how business is done... is it? On that, I hate my topic for this week, which is based around trying to convince corporations to make the switch to Windows Vista. 3 days after a top Microsoft executive publicly stated that people should just wait for Windows 7. Fuck my life.

I cooked dinner tonight too. I felt pretty proud of it - pesto and pepper crusted tilapia, served with steamed spinach, sliced asian pear, baguette and lite cheese spread over it. Yummy! I'm committed to cooking more myself, and being healthy about it. It kind of sucks, but what can you do? I decided all this a couple of nights ago. I was hanging out with C, and he and I randomly decided to go find a park. We ran around the play structure, before settling on the space suspended in the air where the connective tube was (just chilling out on top of it) and talking about life. That kid rocks. We were both so tired after we just kind of fell asleep watching a movie he picked out - and so continues C's keen ability to pick out shit movies.

I've been getting to know someone new lately. He seems like a really nice guy, and it's a good change of pace. He keeps up an amazing conversation, and it doesn't feel overwhelming. He has GOT to be my musical twin. I mean... we keep talking music, and he's got all the same music I do (even the obscure, eclectic stuff!) and when we're playing stuff for one another over Skype, and mention an artist, we always pre-guess the song the other is going to play. What's up with that! It's pretty funny. I can say it's good to meet someone new, but I feel kind of bad since he's one of my brother's friends. He's nice though, haha, so I know I shouldn't feel bad... but it's something that happens regardless at times. I've been so shut in at work that I haven't had the chance to meet anyone new so I guess I'm just happy with it.

CAN'T SLEEP ON THIS TONIGHT

I'm on the bus, and I'm watching the rain fall on the window, fat drops breaking to pieces on impact. I have a book open in my lap, It's a bit cold, and I'm hugging my sweater close, warmer, watching as the bus rolls to a stop, my stop. Only, I'm able to see the bus I need to take roll away, and I'm sighing in frustration. Fuck. Just to be sure, I run across the road to ask if the bus was too full or not. No such luck. I ended up walking. It was kind of nice, you know, just to walk along the road, even if it was a little windy. I stopped by a Tim Hortons because my hands were cold, and I wanted to get something to warm them. I ended up with getting a coffee, and while drinking it, I wondered why it had to taste so unbelievably sweet. Is that what coffee was really meant to be about? Did I prefer this, or black coffee? For that matter, did I only drink black coffee because I thought it was cool? One always has to wonder about how much of ourselves is really just... us. How much of it is the perceived... whatever it is that we're supposed to be. Is it what I think, or what I think others expect of me? I think I've dragged myself down because of this kind of thinking. I finished it anyways. It tasted good... maybe that's all that really matters. I'm kind of struck by how beautiful the day is, gray, with the rain just clinging to things. By the time I'm at the door of my work, the rain has stopped, but not quite, the wind spattering about what little remains. In that moment, I think I'm happy.

I'm visiting my aunt in the hospital, and I'm struck by the desolate nature of it all. She's happy enough, able to communicate with the care staff. Somewhere within the hospital, my father, myself, and my two aunts can hear a woman screaming for an attendant to come see her, until another patient yells at her to shut up. I'm cringing. I hate the sterile environment here. I never want to end up in a place like this... it's a rehabilitation centre, but so many are here for long term care as well. I'm... scared. I dislike it here, and I sit at the end of my aunt's bed uncomfortably, helping her when she asks me to fetch things, and eventually, I end up taking out her dinner trey so that she has more room on her ledge, but when I go out to put it away, a woman stops me, pulling at my hand. I'm overwhelmed by how lonely she seems, and we talk. She mistakes me for being Japanese, speaking in a deep French accent. She asks if I'll see her again. I say yes even though I doubt it. I can't wait to escape from this place.

When we finally get home, my father hands me a plastic bag filled with food. My grandma made me some of my favourite dishes - I'm happy, leaning over the stove as I finish the cooking process. I'm reminded of when we were young, and she took care of us. The care she put into cooking, how... we hardly understood, enough to thank her, appreciate her. It's hard to look at her now, hands lined, body shaking and aching with every movement. I wonder what can be done. To make her happy... I'm left stirring the pot, eating, sleeping... then finally, watching a bad B-movie that I got from my dad's store, hoping to find solace in the small screen. Please, God, I want to see something else. I want to forget, and remember what it was like to be naive. If experiencing hardship and sadness make one an adult, why does anyone want to grow up? I feel a little sickened midway through the movie, and I have to set my head down. I remember why I use to smoke up. It used to drown out the noise.

The night before, this hour, B and I are together in my office at school, trading funny stories back and forth. We're supposed to be practicing. But B's laughing, saying 'fuck it all,', and I agree with him. We end up giggling over our mistakes. It's fun, and somehow, it makes us both feel better. When we saw one another, he only said 'shitty weekend?' and my response was the same. It felt so real. It felt good. Honest. It's why I'm happy to have class with him again. I miss that boy.