Je vois la vie en rose et bonbons...

Huh, funny. I sat down to write an LJ entry and instead got a much less cheerful, but more honest, stream-of-conciousness rant. It's long-winded and convoluted but a rather accurate protrayal of the part of my mental state I'm willing to share with others (which is a lot less than usual, but more at the same time. It doesn't make sense, but neither do I most of the time). Don't feel obliged to read it. It's more of a personal thing, posting it more for my benefit to look back on, I guess, than for others to get an update. If you want an update, I am back home in Yarmouth again, but trying to find a job elsewhere due to my arthritis flaring up here. I got home from university a week ago, and leaving was a pretty emotionally messy experience for obvious reasons. I love eveybody I know up there and am missing them all dearly. Thankfully, I have some quality friends here in Yarmouth to keep me smiling. That's pretty much it. Now, on to the rant:

Well, hello, Livejournal! We haven’t seen each other in a while, eh? Well, I’ve been pretty busy… no, that’s not a line. Seriously. I haven’t been really truly alone for any reasonable period of time for… gosh, a long time. I’m way past due for a walk on the beach with just my mp3 player for company. Not that I don’t like people. I love and cherish and miss people; I just need a minute to really collect my thoughts among the music of the crashing waves. Hmmm, if only I could drive, I could get up really early and go out to the beach and walk while the sun rises and turns the sand and the rippling ocean different colours. Except the alarm would wake my parents and they’d ask where I’m going and I’m be groggy and grumpy and greasy-looking and such. Ah, the joys of living at home. Privacy is hard to find in town, unfortunately, unless it’s the middle of the night, sort of like now, and the whole place is asleep except for teenagers and drunk drivers. But walking alone at night would, again, get me scolded, and I’m sure it’d slip out eventually, because I’m bad at keeping things to myself. I find myself blurting out secrets to my little brother; we have these amazing but searing conversations that leave me reeling. I love the kid. He’s so mature and smart and perceptive and in desperate need of some independence, but he makes me really examine things, especially the unpleasant things about myself that I’d rather leave alone. He speaks bluntly about the facts, and we can finish each other’s sentences, act as each other’s thesauruses, speak in unison. We have an incredible bond and I feel so fortunate and blessed to have him as my brother. I can’t wait to see what he’ll do… once he breaks free. He’s still very tied-down, like I used to be. I’m trying not to revert to that, but the alternative is an uncomfortable compromise. But it’s the best and most liveable option. We went out to supper as a family tonight and it was wonderful. We managed to hack away at the false shellack that’s defined the past week and were acting like a real family again. We laughed and talked frankly and sang (yes, we all sing! I love us) and drove and ate ice cream together. To have to destroy that familiar bliss is going to be tough, but I’ve been preparing to fight with my parents about leaving from the second I woke up on my first morning with the all-too-familiar pain in my joints. My body is not going to be a cage again. Back in Halifax, it was easy to say I could cope. I remember talking with Erin and proclaiming through a haze that “I can do fuckin’ ANYTHING.” Now that I’m here, I know it’s not as true as it felt then. So I’m escaping. I don’t care where, really, as long as it’s not here. Halifax is preferable (it’s close, there’s a really awesome job with Via Rail, I have places to stay and friends there), but Ottawa (I could see Anne! There are some really cool jobs! I could see Jenn and Laur and Shannon! I’ve never been there!) and Calgary (The prairies! So dry! SO many awesome well-paying jobs! I could see Ana and Adam!) are enticing prospects. I’ve been hacking through a mile-long list of job postings applying everywhere I can, and some places where I probably shouldn’t even bother. I flirted with a bartending job in Calgary for a half-hour before I realized how impractical that was. But somewhere out there is a job that I’ll get interviewed for, and hopefully get offered the position. And then I’ll have to sit down with my parents and battle it out until they listen. Mom tends to brush off my complaints about joint pain (not that they’re frequent, but she seems to think they’re minor). I think my friend Reema put it best the other day while she was talking about her own need for independence: “They (her friends) need to let me go. They need to grow on their own, and they need to let ME grow.” I’ve been home, and I’ve seen people and gone to places that I’ve missed. Now I yearn for new places, experiences, and people. I want travel, I want diversity, I want adventure! One does not become a woman of the world by sitting in her own backyard. Well, she could read, I suppose, but I’ve spent enough of my life acting like an elderly woman. Sitting around reading, drinking tea, doing ballet, schoolwork. It’s time to run around, scream, streak down the halls and let people see me! I want to sparkle with experience, with knowledge, with the joy and beauty and chaos and turbulence and pain and agony and sweet honey of life. I want to wander down a country road surrounded by solitude and trees and sing to my heart’s content and then get a sweet warm hug. I want to fly in a plane, travel by train, sail over seas of turquoise blue! I want to stare up at the sky and revel in my utter meaninglessness for a minute, then smile because I know that my life has purpose. Life is poetry and I want to worm my way into one of the verses.


My new favorite mantra: "Don't regret what you could have had, cherish what you did."