Torture in the Desert

Unending- unrelenting-suffocating.

There is absolutely no escape. Feeling of being trapped,squeezed in on all sides, and not being able to find the way out. You just wish it would stop!

Hours tick by.

You can see the stars from where You lay, as they shine brilliantly overhead. Soon they cloud over.

Hours tick by.

The stars are out again. One small blessing of this torture is to see the stars, starring out into the enormity of the sky; feeling that your own troubles and misfortunes are small compared to the enormity of the universe.

Although your grief is shared with at least three others, you wonder if they were lucky enough to fall into a dreamless oblivation, consumed by exhaustion.

Hours tick by.

A new sensation.

A sensation if small bites and something small, possibly multiple legged, is crawling all over your half naked body. In the dark your imagination runs wild at what this new torture could be.

Finally as the dark starts to fade with the prospect of a new day, the feeling of complete nothingness envelops your body and mind. Finally sleep comes gratefully into your open arms.

An hour or two go by in the black of unconsciousness.

But you slowly awake, bleary eyes open and you feel that suffocating presence yet again and it's getting worse every minute.

You feel that second sensation as well, the one that bites and your imagination thought was a many legged, menacing fanged thing. Well reality wasn't too far off. Hundreds, possibly even thousands of ants cover every space, your body, the blankets, the walls.

You fully awake and quickly gather your things, running away from the relentless ants and hopefully away from that endless suffocating heat.

Welcome to the desert.

Missing You in Tears.

This is going to my Brother, Conan. I love you and happy birthday big bro.


Woke up from a dream. The dream was of you big brother. I woke up with tears in my eyes, tears that wouldn't stop for the rest of the day and into the night. They are tears of pain, tears of regret, tears of guilt, tears of memories, and tears of times forgotten.

 With each tear, tracing a path down my face, i remembered that being my big brother you would watch Disney movies with me, Hercules being one of your favorites, and protecting me from dangers, everything from sharp knives in the kitchen, grandpas wrath when I would play on his tractors and knew i wasn't supposed to, and from angry sisters. You would also play countless hours of make believe with stuffed animals and doll houses with me, and I can never forget the lessons on how to do a flip and double bouncing on the trampoline.

I was young, only seven at the time you had to leave us. It was not enough time to get to know you! And being only seven, those memories are all foggy, almost insubstantial; not knowing if those 'memories' are my own, stories from other people or even dreams. My regret is I never got to properly say good bye, because I was young, selfish, tired of being sad, I didn't go to your funeral. The guilt comes from not remembering details about you. Even your face is being erased, by time, from my memory. Without pictures I wouldn't be able to guess at what you looked like or your eye color, which for me is a pressing detail in which I wish I could remember. Although I cannot remember all your physical features, I do remember the feeling of happiness and love around my clouded memories of you.

Even after sixteen years, the love I have for you has not changed, and the pain of losing you is still there, will always be there. I miss you and love you, Conan.

By Your Littlest Sister

Lucid

I woke up with a start, sitting straight up in my bed, wide eyed and looking around. I’m not sure what woke me up but something seemed off. I laid back down, thinking that it was probably just a siren, a dog knocking over a trash can or some drunk making his way home. As I cuddled under my blankets, creating my cocoon once again, the noise happened again. It was loud and came with a mighty crash. This time I knew it wasn’t coming from outside, nor just part of a fading dream. I tried not to scream, knowing that if someone was in the house, the scream would just alert them to my location.

Every horror movie now ran through my head, and the conclusion is that majority of the time one of two things happen; a) the girl dies because she’s too stupid to grab a weapon, or b) the girl dies because she hides beneath the blankets, like that has ever helped anyone in the history of the universe! I grabbed my baseball bat that I keep by my bedside for just such an occurrence, and slipped as quietly as I could out of my bed and towards the door. My place isn’t very big and so I put my ear against the door to see if I could hear anything else. No other sound came my way. I decided to try and take a peek out of the door to see what was going on,

I turned the doorknob, slowly to avoid making noise, and nudged the door open a few inches to stick my head in the crack and peer out. I still couldn’t see anything, in my open floor apartment.  This was getting strange since I couldn’t hear anything either. I pulled the door open quickly but smoothly to avoid the squeaking hinges, and kept close to the wall, with my bat raised, and examined the room beyond. Still nothing moved in the pale light coming in from the street beyond.

I was getting a little braver, starting to think that I did just dream the noise. I started in the bathroom, moving aside the shower curtain, checking the hallway closet, behind the couch and the laundry room. My room mate wasn’t home yet, since she usually worked nights so I quickly turned on the light in her room and looked around, just to make 100% sure that there wasn’t a burglar, murder or some other misfit poking around.

Nobody. Good. I guess. But now I was wide awake, no chance that I was going to go back to sleep anytime soon. I shut off the lights grabbed a glass of water and went to double check the dead bolt on the front door and the patio door as well. After all was looked after I headed to my room.

Just as I was about to close my bedroom door, another crash sounded. I whirled around, looking towards the kitchen where the sound emanated from.  I was starting to panic, seeing still nothing. I decided that instead of worrying all night long if there was someone, or maybe something, was in the house I would just leave. Get in my truck and call a friend on my way to their house.

Turning into my room, leaving the glass of water on the dresser and grabbing my keys from the floor where I dropped them earlier and my phone from the bedside charger, I headed to the door. I quickly put my shoes on and put my hand out to turn the deadbolt, and there was nothing there. The door seemed to have completely disappeared. I threw on the lights and a blank wall the same color as the rest of the place stared back at me, like there was never a door there. There was even a picture hanging at eye level of a barn and mountains.

I looked at the wall confused, and the panic was really starting to set in. Well if I couldn’t go through the main door, then I’ll just go out through the patio. Luckily I lived on the ground floor and could hurtle over the patio railing, and get away from this creepy apartment.

As I reached for the patio door however, it turned to steel right before my eyes. I backed away quickly, never expecting anything like this to happen in the normal realm of planet Earth. There was still a doorknob, so after taking a couple of deep breathes to calm my racing heart, I went towards the now steel door.

I tried to turn the knob to no avail. It must have been locked but I couldn’t find any lock or keyhole. My only conclusion was that it was locked from the outside, and if it was locked from the outside, who was trying to keep me in here?

Claustrophobia was starting to set in. I have never been claustrophobic, even enjoying small, dark spaces when I was little to escape the wrath of older siblings, but being trapped in you own home, that was just too over powering not to have a sense of paralysis and hyperventilating.   

I wanted out and I wanted out now! I went to all the windows in the apartment and none of them would open. They were supposed to be fire escapes but no matter how hard I tried to pull on the sliding windows, they wouldn’t budge.

I reached into my hoodie pocket to get my phone and call 911. This was just getting too far out of reach of reality and I needed help. I knew that I put my phonein my pocket when I originally was going to leave out the main door but my cell also seemed to have disappeared on me. Well if glass patio doors can suddenly become steel, why couldn’t a three inch piece of hardware just up and vanish too?

Having no house phone I was out of options on contacting the outside world for immediate help. i was getting desperate. I didn’t want to wait in this house any longer. I grabbed the bar stool at the island and hefted it over my head, ready to throw it as hard as I could through the front window. I threw with all my strength, and it just bounced off. I didn’t think a window should be that strong so I grabbed the baseball bat and swung. Again nothing happened. Not even a crack or a chip.

I swung again and again, started to scream and yell every time the bat swung down. I must have been at it for five minutes and after that I was getting exhausted with the effort.

I had no more ideas. I was scared and panicking. No longer thinking there was anyone in my house but just the feeling of being trapped was too much. I sat on the couch with my head in my hands and started to cry, out of terror.

This couldn’t be real. Things like this just didn’t happen in the real world. We did not live in the twilight zone, objects couldn’t just disappear into the ether or change materials.

Maybe this was a dream. That could happen. Dreams that feel so real, all the emotions playing through your body and mind. That’s gotta be it!

What do people always say? “Pinch me, I’m dreaming.” I tried that. I pinched myself hard on the arm, and it hurt, just like it always had. I went for something more painful and punched the wall, all the frustration of the night coming out in a serious of blows to the wall. All I got was scrapped knuckles that started to ache. I’ve had dreams before that I felt pain, so there must be some other kind of test to determine if you were in a dream.

I sat back on the couch, surprised that the couch was indeed still there and the same cloth couch that had always been there, not mysteriously turned into a wooden bench or a cow for all I knew of this helter skelter reality. Fingers! I remembered reading somewhere that all you had to do was count the number of fingers you had. Dreams didn’t have consistencies like the proper number of digits.

I brought my hands up and started to count. 1,2,3,4,5 and then the lights of the apartment went out. I jumped back startled of the sudden darkness. I got up and went to find the light switch. I found it, flipped it up and down and nothing. No light.

Okay no problem, there’s a street lamp outside that I can still see a little by. I went back to the living room window and started to count once again. 1,2,3, and pitch black like I have never been in before, befell on me. I couldn’t see outlines of any objects or even my hands that should have been mere inches away from my face.

Pitch black and trapped. My heart was racing and I was starting to have a hard time breathing. I sat back down, putting my head between my knees, seeing others do this when someone was on the verge of fainting. It seemed to work. My pulse slowed down and I no longer felt like I was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Lights started to play on the opposite wall, meaning vehicles were going by. Then suddenly sirens sounded and the familiar red and blue lights of emergency vehicles started flickering against the wall as well. Maybe one of the neighbors heard all the commotion and called the police! Maybe I was going to be saved! I was still determined to count my fingers and with all the light shining in through the window, it should be enough to count by.

1,2,3,4,5,6,7. Then all the lights shifted away and were shining a different direction. That decided it. This was a dream. No matter how hard I tried, I wasn’t able to count my fingers. This had to be a dream.

Now the only question was how do I get out of it? Counting didn’t seem to work, pain didn’t seem to work. There was no way I could jump off something high enough to scare myself awake. The only thing I could think of was to scream.

I stood in the middle of the living room, took in a deep breath, and screamed.

Toilet Pater Made Me Fat

This morning I awoke to my usual routine. Alarm goes off 5:00 am. Hit the snooze button twice until 5:18 am. Get up, stumble my way on feet that have forgotten how to walk overnight, and make my way to the bathroom. I go to wipe my arse and reach my hand to the TP. All my hand finds is, cardboard and the two straggling pieces that were stuck to the toilet paper roll. Now I remember that last night I used up the last four squares. Oh well I always keep a good supply of TP because that’s one thing you never want to run out of. I open the drawer and low and behold, there is no paper to be seen!! I start to worry about what I can do now and there I spot the Kleenex, it will do in a pinch, and trust me I was in a pinch.

I finish my morning routine without any more hitches and make my way to work. During the working hours, I mentally created a grocery list which consisted of;

#1 – TOILET PAPER

            #2-  Yogurt (specifically the source vanilla yogurt)

            #3 – Cheese

            #4 – Plums

            #5 - Rice

All healthy things that I love to eat, especially raspberries in yogurt, delicious!!

I headed to the grocery store in my grubby work clothes, paint stained- washed out shorts and an old hoodie with the front pocket falling off. I ignored my looks because I knew that if I went home first to shower or change, that I wouldn’t go out again. 

I pick up at a basket and walked to the dairy department. Activia, Greek, ah-ha! The source yogurt! NOOOOO! They don’t have any of the good old vanilla flavored yogurt! I was so flustered by this. I didn’t know what to do. I sat in front of those coolers for a good five minutes until I finally settled for peach flavored.

 I was in foul mood after this sad state of affairs, and suddenly I had a desire for chocolate. So I headed to the snack aisle. On my way there, the cookie display caught my attention, specifically the Dad’s Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies that were on sale, and went directly into my basket. Next aisle I then came to the snacks, and there are so many to choose from! I sourced out my favorite chips and those as well went into my basket.  Before I got too carried away, I decided it was time to make my way to the check out lines.

However they have all the desirable treats sitting at those tills. My eyes landed on my prize choice of chocolate bars, the Kit Kat!! Into the basket it went. And since I already had the chips, a pop would wash that delicious salty snack down perfectly. In the coke goes.

As I was about to start putting my purchases on the conveyer belt, I realized I still never got the toilet paper, the sole reason for my expedition to the store.  I turn around and the lady behind was glad to have the shorted line as I made my way to aisle 2, the source of paper products and cleaning supplies. A quick decision later (the TP that was on sale) and I was headed back to the tills. Unfortunately this also ran me past some of the baked goods. I had a hard time resisting fresh made cheese buns, so in the buns went.

My total bill was this:

Toilet paper

Cheese buns

Coke Cola

Old Dutch Sour Cream Potato Chips

Peach Yogurt

Dad’s Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies

Kit Kat

What happened with all the good healthy choices that I came up with earlier that day? They all went by the wayside to make room for the goodies and mucho-calorie induced food.  

My conclusion from this experience is simple: Toilet paper made me fat. I now always make sure that the supply of TP is well stocked and I have a well written out list of things I NEED. No more last minute food that usually finds its way to my cupboards and then into my stomach.

First Love, The Poisonous Prescience

Seeing you always tears at my inner soul. We only had a short fleeting time together but our time and consequently your prescience has been imprinted on my soul. It has been 14 months since the last time I seen you, and three years since we meant more to each other then just casual acquaintances.  You seem to have moved on but I am still stuck in the past. Social media drags on this fact from time to time with your posts such as, “[Grateful] for meeting Mai and having the opportunity to spend yesterday night and this morning with her”. We all know what this suggests and entails and it shouldn’t have, but did, pierce me right to my heart. I wish I could just forget you, with your bright, inquisitive blue eyes, your ability to make me feel wanted, the humor and way you would made me laugh. These thoughts and memories always come flooding back when I start to feel lonely and in turn makes me miss you all over again. I have tried deleting you out of my digital life by blocking you on facebook and deleting your number from my phone, and moving 500 kilometers away but I am nothing but a weak human being, selfish and yearning for that feeling, only lasted a few months before I gave in and let you into my life again. Every time your text tone goes, I get giddy, a thrill running through my body knowing that you are taking the time out of your life, wanting to hear my thoughts.

STOP!! No more dwelling on times past. Nothing can come of it. It’s time to forget about the high school crush, and first time love; time for another clean sweep from facecbook, cell phone, facetime, twitter, MSN and other media. Out of sight out of mind, take the temptation away. Lobotomize the memories of us, scrub the heart, cleanse the soul of your poisonous prescience. 

Sigh, if only it were as easy as deleting the browser history on your computer. Oh well, time to put my big girl pants on. Time to stop being the introverted hermit I am, and time to pretend that I am an extrovert, push myself to go to social setting and meet someone who will be worth my time and thoughts. Someone who will go out of the way to see how my day is going and to try and make it better. There has to be someone out there for me, or so I am hoping….

Moving = Suckage!

I have now moved 9 times in the past 5 years. That's 1.8 moves per year or on average every 6.5 months. From this experience I can tell you that I absolutely HATE moving!! The only reason I will ever move again is if my house burns down or I win a million dollars.

Things I have learnt in the past 5 years:
    1. Having a truck makes moving so much easier!
    2. A dolly is the best investment ever.
    3. Owning couches suck-ass! And moving them up 3 flights of stairs is even worse.
    4. I have lost more jewelry, shoes, and clothes than I can remember owning.
    5. You find out who your true friends are (even if you do have to bribe them with beer and pizza).
    6. By the fifth move you're ready to throw away half the shit you own even if you use it every day         just so you won't have to repack it in 6 months.
    7. keep the boxes that expensive things like palystations and 60" TV's come in. Makes moving these delicate things a bit easier.
   8. You can easily live off of one bag of clothes, one pot, a couple of knives and forks, and a bowl. No need to be materialistic.

Well I moved on the July long weekend so come this winter I will be due for another move! Wish me luck.

Ode to Jade City

I recently went on a road trip up to Northren BC to a town called Jade City. I currently live in the capital of Alberta and first thing I can say is that I'm not a city person. I was born and raised in small towns and acreages, and not used to 730,000 people. The community has a celebration for the longest day of the year, we had a few drinks and by the end of the night I was a little tipsy to say the least. The next morning this is the Ode I found that I must have wrote the previous night.

Jade city. A town of 35 permanent residence and a summer boom of 45. A town where everybody knows everyone, you show up at the neighbors house unannounced on a quad to see if they want to join you on a last minute trek up the mountain. Where you can go to the local restaurant in greasy work clothes and breakfast is already made for you, hot and steaming in your usual place since the cooks knew you were coming in.  

One persons problem is everyone's problem and the locals will help you out whether it's to fix your roof, dig a new shitter or drink a beer on the porch on a hot summers evening. 

This is a place that I could call home. Small and personal, rubbing elbows with 5 or 95 year olds. Joking, sharing secrets, sharing your life with not just one special person but with the town. Each person contributes to the spirit and livelihood that makes the town unique and special, connecting to my very soul.  

 The people are genuine. Not caring what you think of them and willing to show you around even if they don't know you. Ask any of them a question and they won't hesitate to answer if they know it or bullshit you and make you look gullible of they don't know. Each individual has a unique personality that you quickly grow to love and expect the quirkiness every time you meet them.  

 I haven't been here long but already going to miss the hospitality of Claudia and Robin, Guys backyard quadding adventures, Scrappy Larry's ghost town tours, Kendra's bubbly personality, R2's ability to motivate people into playing semi organized sports, teaching kids to play baseball, Kylee's baked goods, Gus' musical abilities and the vocal talents of the infamous Wes!  

 Farewell for now the residence of Jade City. This will have to do for now. If I could I would stay for much longer but unfortunately I am only on a short vacation from my life in a city where one person can be lost in a sea of many. A job takes over your life when really all you want to do is live your life with a quad under you, a dog running along side and a whole town that are closer to being family than friends at arms length. My heart and soul belong to you, this tiny town nestled in between snow capped mountains will now always be my home away from home. 

Tarot Card Experience

So today was an absolutely gorgeous day outside today! So I called up by friend and told her that we NEEDED to go out and enjoy the day. I promptly (20 minutes later) got out of bed, showered, brushed teeth, remembered to eat breakfast, and rode my bike over to her house. From her house we decided to go to the farmers market since it was Saturday and I have never went.

We walked the 3 km to the farmers market, heard some good street performers on the violin, guitar and even the bagpipes, and some not so good yodeling, free samples of flavored butters, perogy hybrid food in a yummy dill sauce, and for early desert, frozen chocolate cheesecake on a stick! Yup you heard it right. Cheesecake Chocolate. On a stick!

After wondering around the shops and buying $150 worth of books we decided to head back to the house. Well before we did that, Cha Island, one of our favorite local spots for amazing waffles and drinks, we stopped and had a tequila sunrise and a meitia, while we discussed the merits of buying sidewalk chalk, skipping ropes and then Jill trying to convince me to stop at the store next door for a tarot card reading.

I was brought up on a Catholic religion, went to Catholic school for four years and then decided to explore the Christian side (which I still am not able to discern too much of a difference between the two religions but supposedly there is a BIG difference) throughout high school. Maybe this history with religion made me really skeptical of the tarot card reading. Actually in fact I was nervous about it and almost decided against going, but that’s what friends do, push you to try new and different things. 

After having our olfactory senses assaulted with scented candles burning and incense everywhere, the overly cheerful owner came up to us and started to rattle off the many specials they had that day on cleansing rocks, certain tarot cards decks, and more candles for sale. Shortly afterwards, she said they had a special guest at the store that day, a local tarot reader that also did magic tricks. He came out and treated us with a mini show, making coins disappear and rubber balls multiply. It was entertaining and quickly put a smile on our faces in the mystery of his tricks. After the show we both signed up for his private tarot readings. I admittedly was nervous but also a little excited to try it. 

The first thing I though of when I stepped into the room was, ‘ok, kinda creepy and weird’, since the first thing that Ian the reader did was turn off the lights, have a single candle burning and low music on in the back ground. He was a pretty easygoing guy and quickly set me at ease by going into the spiel about what to do and what the cards are supposed to do.

He placed many cards in my hand until I bid him stop and the top card was for me to look at and try to understand how it makes me feel. Afterwards I was to put the card facedown in the middle of the table while the rest of the stack was put away.

First thing he did was to clos his eyes and placed his hands over the card and said that he was getting an image of a ‘red-haired raggedy Anne type of doll’. It was crazy he said that because just earlier that day Jill and I were talking about Chucky and that she wants to dress up as him for Halloween this year and how creeped out I still am by my childhood nightmare. Which I still have an unhealthy fear of dolls to this day.

That was weird and how could he possible now of this but this was just the beginning of the session and I was interested in what else he had to say.

Right away he also said he was getting an impression of wearing gloves, which for my job I wear constantly. He said work gloves like the big leather ones, which is close enough considering most people, do in my profession I just prefer to wear latex gloves when taking oil samples. 

My supervisors, according to this guy, look on me with respect and are happy with my work. Within the next 3 months at work I will be given an opportunity to further my career with being given more responsibility and I will then have to make a choice whether or not to take it. It isn’t necessarily for financial gain but will lead to it eventually. Also about work, he said that I wouldn’t be good at a desk job. And that is very true! He said that I could do a mix of desk and other work but nothing in the sales department, especially when having to go into peoples faces and saying ‘Buy this, and buy it now!’ I don’t like going into stores with those type of salesmen so, yeah, I don’t think I could ever do anything like that! And desk jobs suck! You stare at a computer screen for eight hours a day, how do people NOT go insane by this?!

Ian also said that I get frustrated with people who are procrastinators. This is very true. I get sick and tired of people who won’t do things as quickly as I would like and therefore have the mentality that ‘if you want it done right, do it yourself’ but yet I am one of the biggest procrastinators out there! It’s very contradictory, I know but that IS how I think and how would this total stranger know this about me?

He felt a masculine aura around me, and then asked if I was with someone. I currently am not dating anyone but have a good friend, Trevor, who I usually hang out with at least once if not twice a week with, this could be the ‘presence’ he felt. But within the next month and a half I will meet someone who has a calming effect on me and I will feel a connection to in the pit of my stomach. If we do not work out the first time, this mysterious person will come back around and we will meet again one day. (I really hope this part comes true! I would like to have a boy in my life again!)

 He guessed that I was thinking about buying a house. I am young but really looking forward to owning my own house where I can do whatever I want, have a yard and garden and a dog! 

Really paraphrasing now because I have a horrible memory but he was saying something along the line that I like stability in my life and enjoy the fruits of it, but once it gets to stable that I want/need change. That is the truest thing he said! Anything I do, once I stop learning and things become routine, I get tired of it quickly and need a change of scenery, whether its changing jobs, or moving cities, or a lifestyle change. 

Some of these things that he said were spot on! Like the procrastinator stuff and the fact that I wear gloves for work! Oh and the doll thing, that’s really f**cking creep. * shudder *  dolls….

I don’t know if I would say I believe in tarot cards or fortune telling, but it was a really neat experience that I would like to do again one day and then compare what the two people have to say, see if there’s any overlap and if the calming guy comes into my life by the end of summer!!