Twins

Well, now ... don't I look like I haven't slept a full night's rest in seven months. Wait a minute ...

As Kaeden gets older, we look more alike. I'm told babies are meant to look like their dads when they're born because in the wild, if a baby animal doesn't look like its dad at birth, Dad will eat it.

All the male members of Kaeden's dad's family have stopped licking their lips when we come over, so I assume the coast is clear. Thank goodness. That was close.

Mini and I are on a mission to find a copy of William S. Burroughs' Naked Lunch. All seven of Vancouver Island Regional Library's copies are missing, and the used book store guy laughed at me when I suggested he may be able to find a copy or even keep one on the shelf for more than thirty seconds. Little do I know about cult books, I guess.

[editor's note: for the sake of my christian readership, let it be clarified that "cult" in this context is meant to denote a book popularized by its obscurity and lack of reason, so much so that all seven of one Island's copies are stolen, and does not refer to a book about people to have group sex with antelope while burning images of mao tse tung into the flesh of their asses. thanks.]

As much as I hate the thought of it, I am officially part of the work force once again. I swore I'd stay off for a year, but the bills are piling up and it's starting to make me want to vomit. So, barring divine intervention, I will reclaim by Beer Slinger's Brownie Badge on Wednesday from six-til-close. *Sigh* I'm quite crushed about it, actually, because I don't want to miss a single minute of Kaeden's growing up, or at least babyhood. I suppose that's just the way it goes and I should get over myself; it's just hard, is all. I am taking pleasure in the fact that I will only work 2-3 shifts per week, and that my EI benefits still go until July. Perhaps I can find work where babies are welcome in the meantime.

Alright then, speaking of babies and working moms, it's time for me to pump. I feel like I should be mooing while I do it.

Be safe, speak the truth, and if you can't pronounce "anonimity," just say "broccoli."

Stop it.

Here it comes.
Cosmic repetition,
New order confusion,
Karmic retribution.

Taking
Making
Breaking

Me.

Like waves.
Omnipotent gifting,
Transcendental haunting,
Inner evil boiling.

Poring
Goring
Luring

Me.

Take it away.
Prophetic selfism,
Lethargic deflectism,
Indifferent survivalism.

Downing
Drowning
Clowning

Me.

Abjugation

How do I explain, in 2500 words or less, how power is abjucated, never taken away? When looking at a bunch of street kids and how they are treated by the police, the government, the public, and other such "good guys" it's hard to make the case that the kids have simply handed over their power without force or coercion. That is my assignment for today. Nine pages, double spaced, 2.5'' margins, please. I'm all over it.

Besides staying up late rotting my stomache lining with coffee, extra cream, this day has been a good one. I had a long, dreamy, steamy bubble bath while my roomies watched the baby. It was amazing and as I frolicked happily in vanilla-honey goodness, I had for a tiny moment a glimpse of life before motherhood. Strangely, I had no feeling of nostalgia or longing for what was; I seem to fit sharing my life with another human quite nicely. But really ... look above and tell me if you blame me.

My new place is fabulous. I like the company, the space, the yard, the view of the mountain ... I even like the thumps and bumps coming from all over the house. Makes me feel safe and stimulates my chronic Small Town Syndrome, symptoms of which include ear straining, eye popping, and neck twisting to find out what's going on with all people, in all places, at all times. I took a walk downtown today in the ghetto and felt quite at home. Every second person on the street was someone who had touched my life at some point over the past 1.5 years -- at work, in volunteering, at school, rolling in their own vomit below my bedroom window -- it's nice to be back.

Enough shinannigans. I've got a paper to write. Live free and eat asparagus.

Peace.

Not So Fast!

Hi, Kiddies. I'll bet some of the less hopeful thought I'd abandoned my lovely new blog in favour of something more trendy and enticing like wearing thong underwear with low-rise pants. Not a chance. Truth be known, my laptop has gone to the Great Electronic Heap in the Sky. Also, I just moved, so connecting to the Internet meant crawling under boxes of stale cereal and oven cleaner to get to the modem. Anyhow, here I am, safe and blogger-happy sound.

I am enjoying watching my new digs come together, although a slightly melancholic yearning for my church of solitude in the woods still abounds. I realize now how much I enjoyed my alone time. Not that I have any gripe with my roomies - who are great - I just really loved the quiet, the bunnies, the darkness, the lonliness. Things are different now: more active, more cars, more unidentified midnight thumps. It's new and old and interesting and familiar all at once. I think once my things are all put away and the carport (currently overrun with the World's Largest Supply of Abandoned Cardboard) is clean, I will settle in with a piping hot green tea and a good cry for the old and the new. I'm funny that way.

So it's Super Bowl today. Or, it was. All that fuss and it's over in a few short hours. It's a lot like Christmas that way, except no one feels inclined to buy plastic trinkets for people they don't like in order to commemorate a football game appropriately. Sometimes I wish I understood the game; other times I figure it's just as well. Does the world really need another obnoxious, over-caffinated sports junkie obsessing over grown men in tights fighting over a dead pig? I think not. Besides, learning about football would cut into my hockey-watching time.

Well, as much as I am enjoying sharing my little tidbits with the cyber-world, I am exhausted and must go to bed. I did a Step Two today and there's something about risking emotional vulnerability in order to attempt to reverse thirty years of painstakingly developed negative behaviour coping mechanisms that simply wipes a girl out. Imagine that. That's all I've got for today. Walk tall and have mercy.

Peace.