Voice In The Mist: Now, it's one thing for you to ignore me. It's another thing to allow random users to post spam in my personal space. And it's been there for almost a day so far! Why haven't you removed it?
MistWeaver: To be honest, I don't know how. I swear to you, the exact moment I saw what had been so rudely put up, I tried. But for some reason, the power to edit and delete comments is not easily available to me. I'll look it up sometime soon when it's not one o'clock in the morning and I'm not extremely tired.
Voice: *sigh* I guess I'll have to settle for that. Good night, then.
Weaver: Good night.
Oh, and I haven't forgotten you. I think of you all the time.
MistWeaver leaves at this point. But in so doing, she misses the soft swirling of the darkened mists and the faint outline of a smile that appears in the gloom.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Hello, Hello
MistWeaver: I have absolutely no idea if there are any left who hasn't given up on me and stopped reading my conversations, but there's nothing I can really claim in my defense except that I haven't had access to a computer in a while, and didn't have a compatible internet browser for a while before that.
Voice In The Mist: What about all the unfinished posts? Those get irritating, too.
Weaver: I just never get the oppurtunity to come back on and finish them, that's all. I'll try to finish one or two that were left unfinished eventually. Once I have a working computer I can use regularly.
Voice: Okay, I'll bite. Why haven't you had access to a computer in a while?
Weaver: I've been at camp.
Voice: What kind of camp?
Weaver: Summer camp.
Voice: Well, obviously. It's summer. What kind of summer camp?
Weaver: It's called "Teen Video Intensive". It's a... Dun dun dun! Teen Video Intensive course at Red Deer College in Red Deer, Alberta.
Voice: Whoop dee doo.
Weaver: Hey, don't you go dissing TVI! I hate summer camp, but this one was so funky I stayed an extra week.
Voice: Wow. That's pretty serious, especially for you, Ms. "I Will Die Before Ever Going Back To A Camp In My Life". What made it so funky?
Weaver: For one thing, nearly everyone was over 16. I know it may be hypocritical, but younger people bug me. For another, we stayed in the dorms on campus. It was very... intensive.
Voice: If I were a vulgar human of your age range, I'd probably respond "Oh my Gawwwd! What was his naaaame? Did you sleep with him? OHMIGAWD YOU DID!!! YOU HO!!!"
*lengthy pause*
I can see your eyes widening as you struggle not to laugh.
Weaver: That was... unexpected. And in response to your lapse into vulgarity: there was no "him", I slept with nobody, and I am not a whore.
Voice: I know that, of course. However, the way you put that statement implied there was a man involved.
Weaver: To tell the truth, most of my friends there were guys. They were all superfunkydoodlicious, and it feels really weird being back home and not having any of the people I met around to joke with. Living two solid weeks with someone is no joke.
Voice: So tell me about some of these friends you made.
Weaver: There was... let's see... Oh bah. I hate to do this again...
Voice: You're leaving again, aren't you.
For the sake of not being killed by anyone who has ever read this blog, MistWeaver has refrained from answering the question.
MistWeaver
Voice In The Mist: What about all the unfinished posts? Those get irritating, too.
Weaver: I just never get the oppurtunity to come back on and finish them, that's all. I'll try to finish one or two that were left unfinished eventually. Once I have a working computer I can use regularly.
Voice: Okay, I'll bite. Why haven't you had access to a computer in a while?
Weaver: I've been at camp.
Voice: What kind of camp?
Weaver: Summer camp.
Voice: Well, obviously. It's summer. What kind of summer camp?
Weaver: It's called "Teen Video Intensive". It's a... Dun dun dun! Teen Video Intensive course at Red Deer College in Red Deer, Alberta.
Voice: Whoop dee doo.
Weaver: Hey, don't you go dissing TVI! I hate summer camp, but this one was so funky I stayed an extra week.
Voice: Wow. That's pretty serious, especially for you, Ms. "I Will Die Before Ever Going Back To A Camp In My Life". What made it so funky?
Weaver: For one thing, nearly everyone was over 16. I know it may be hypocritical, but younger people bug me. For another, we stayed in the dorms on campus. It was very... intensive.
Voice: If I were a vulgar human of your age range, I'd probably respond "Oh my Gawwwd! What was his naaaame? Did you sleep with him? OHMIGAWD YOU DID!!! YOU HO!!!"
*lengthy pause*
I can see your eyes widening as you struggle not to laugh.
Weaver: That was... unexpected. And in response to your lapse into vulgarity: there was no "him", I slept with nobody, and I am not a whore.
Voice: I know that, of course. However, the way you put that statement implied there was a man involved.
Weaver: To tell the truth, most of my friends there were guys. They were all superfunkydoodlicious, and it feels really weird being back home and not having any of the people I met around to joke with. Living two solid weeks with someone is no joke.
Voice: So tell me about some of these friends you made.
Weaver: There was... let's see... Oh bah. I hate to do this again...
Voice: You're leaving again, aren't you.
For the sake of not being killed by anyone who has ever read this blog, MistWeaver has refrained from answering the question.
MistWeaver
Sunday, July 17, 2005
I love you, Will.
Obviously this can't go on the front page, so here it is with the Lost Entry. Will's response to it. I love you, Will. I really do.
And then he randomly changed topics to his favourite topic... that is, himself.
Lah.
| (3:46 AM) Eeore--: | -faints- |
|---|---|
| (3:46 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | Mm? |
| (3:46 AM) Eeore--: | And I *so* read that french entry. |
| (3:46 AM) Eeore--: | Wuss. |
| (3:46 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | Bahaha |
| (3:46 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | I knew you'd read it before I hid it |
| (3:47 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | Or did you search? |
| (3:47 AM) Eeore--: | I was probably the only one who read that friggin' crap. |
| (3:47 AM) Eeore--: | French is hideooussssss. |
| (3:47 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | Yeah I bet |
| (3:47 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | And it was fun |
| (3:47 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | Translating, I mean |
| (3:47 AM) Eeore--: | What's your problem with Dave? |
| (3:47 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | What do you mean? |
| (3:47 AM) Eeore--: | Like, are you stupid? |
| (3:48 AM) Eeore--: | You're the one who told me getting your hopes up can only lead to tragedy. |
| (3:48 AM) Eeore--: | And you are clearly getting your hopes up. |
| (3:48 AM) Eeore--: | The dude likes bubblegum bimbos. |
| (3:49 AM) Eeore--: | Are you a bubblegum bimbo? |
| (3:49 AM) Eeore--: | No. |
| (3:49 AM) Eeore--: | Quit it before I rip my hair out. |
| (3:49 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | Dude the chick he likes now most definitely is not a bubblegum bimbo |
| (3:49 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | Although I really like that term |
| (3:49 AM) Eeore--: | Nyaaa~ |
| (3:49 AM) Eeore--: | Well, you still have hopes. |
| (3:49 AM) | -->((Sayata))<-- Love is not a victory march. It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah... has changed his/her personal message to "Death to the Bubblegum Bimbos!" |
| (3:50 AM) Eeore--: | That he might just turn around and truly see what's been there all alonggggg. -sways- |
| (3:50 AM) -->((Sayata))<--: | Yeah well there's always that stupidstupid eternal hope |
| (3:50 AM) Eeore--: | -slap- |
And then he randomly changed topics to his favourite topic... that is, himself.
Lah.
The Lost Entry.
Okay. I want to post this... but I don't want everyone to read it. So I'm burying it in the archives. Hopefully this way, the only people who will see it are those dedicated enough to comb back through every entry I've ever posted.
But, because my conscience demands it, I'm going to sacrifice the joyful timelessness of my life and find/record the real date... which is, this day (Sunday, July 17th), but one year later.... Meaning 2006, not 2005.
Ughhh. I suppose this won't come as a surprise to most of the people close to me right now (like Becca and Mama)... but I'm falling for Davo. Er... a bit more than that, even. I think it's pretty safe to say that I already tripped and hit my head on this one.
I suppose the time when I got thumped with this knowledge was... Friday? I dunno the day. But before/around when we went to Stampede. We were talking, and I was teasing him about the twit (as usual) and he was telling me about how he was finally 100% over her. But that wasn't all he said. He said that it was partly because he liked someone else. Someone he told me to trust him was far from a twit. Someone he'd known a year and a half at least and that had been there for him all along.
Oh, here's the Chat Log.
Damned if my heart didn't do a backflip and light up in hope.
And damned if it didn't curl up into a ball and shrivel when he continued to describe someone else.
But... ugh. Just... ugh. I swear, my heart was leaning forward going "Yes? Yesssss?", and meanwhile my mind was going "FUCK! There's no way you can fool yourself now! Look what your heart is doing!". And in that one instant, I wanted to murder that girl, even though I didn't know her.
Plus he fought with his best friend over her, and while they were fighting she went out and started dating someone else. I'd have to say "GOOD FOR HER!" on that one, but still. A chick he fought his bro for? Can we say, OFF-LIMITS?!? And doubly so because she's TAKEN!! I don't care if she says she still has feelings for him. If she REALLY had feelings with him, she'd break up with her boytoy and date him, damnit.
Although she DOES seem like a nice girl, I guess. I haven't met her. And anyone's fucking better than Jolyn, I suppose...
Actually, I really want to believe she's as amazing as he says. If I have to listen to him talk about him and some other random chick, let her at least be an amazing one who won't tear his heart in half.
It would be easier to just hate her.
This really bloody sucks though. I mean, it seems like all of his friends who are girls have had crushes on him at some point or another. I don't want to be one of the hordes. And he obviously sees me as a good non-romantic friend, because I get to hear about all of his love-life, and feelings (even ze purely physical ones) for girls. And I love that honesty. I really do. I don't know whether he's that way with only me or whether that's just the way he is, but I like hearing the whole story, not just what's appropriate.
But it still kinda hurts to hear him talk about every other girl on the fucking earth like that. It makes me feel kinda... well... boyish, I guess. Butch. Good enough to be a great friend, but someone who would obviously never be a love interest. I mean, he's having a bunch of girls over to make out this week. Yeah, yeah... it's Juniour High shit, but whatever. Fuck, I'd still love to be in on it! But no... I got to hear about how excited he is and how there's one chick gonna be there that he's really hot for (although that's as far as it goes).
It's just so many little things that I like... I like the short bursts that he talks in (although I'm starting to talk like that too after hanging with him... grrr), the way he smiles, the way he wanders randomly around his house... even his spiky hair and the weird way he hugs. Maybe I'm like him and just need somebody to obsess over. But hey, he could obsess over me any time he wants...
And then there's Tristan, although I think I've known for a while that it's well and truly over, if only because he's so straight. I know that he doesn't mind that I'm not... but I'd like to be able to chill and light one up with someone I love, or even be able to fucking have sex without knowing that he's freaked out over the possibility of me getting pregnant. I know that he accepts me for who I am... but I also know that he's not completely comfortable with it.
And yeah... I still want what I've always wanted... not just someone who likes me but someone who's completely gaga over me. And neither the SK or I was/is completely gaga over the other. I mean, come on. He's been gone three weeks and we've exchanged like two or three impersonal emails. Joy...
I think I just need a best friend again. Not that my friends aren't great, but there's nobody I'm super close to. That's my equal, and that I can talk to about absolutely anything at anytime. Learn from, and have them learn from me. No judgment.
Man, I miss Inga sometimes. But hey, I'll still be here when the smoke clears for her, to (embarassingly) quote Avril Lavigne. Her life is just too busy for me right now, especially since we live so far away.
And that, my dears, is a big part of my troubles. It'd be so much easier if I could see the people I love every day. Freedom. Freedom to wander and stay wherever and to live and love as I choose, with the barriers between that being mental and emotional and spiritual without the physical thrown in to make it THAT much harder.
He just told me that he's not sure that he likes Meghann as more than a friend! *grins manically*
I'm taking this news quite chilled-like.
I shouldn't be so happy.
This whole frigging issue has disappated my whole love of myself thing. I keep thinking that he's so lean and I'm so... voluptuous. All the cicas he's friends with seem to be tiny lil' things. Not super smart. Perky-like... and all interexchangeable. 'Cept Becca and me. Hence why I was surprised when we made it into his shout-outs. We're the kinda friends that (and no offense to my friends who do this) you use when you need us, then drop us into the background when you don't. Maybe we have serious conversations at night, but you don't always eat with us.
That's probably another reason I'm feeling so lonely. I mean, Blair always says she misses me, but it's not me who she's reminiscing about and putting pics of with her on her Nex page. Dallis might call or stop by, but his every second question is about the story he wanted me to read and comment on, or the orgy that I stupidly mentioned to him. Not that I'm even really interested in that anymore because it's just too planned.
I swear, with every sentence my heart just sinks lower and lower. If he's not sure about his feelings for HER, what are the chances he ever likes ME? She seems like frigging superwoman and much more the type he seems to like than me. Ughhhhhhh.
EXACTLY!!! That's what I mean about me an' Tristan. We're just not on the same level. Maybe another time, when we're riding the same wavelength, but not now. Although I know that we'll never be on the same level like that, unfortunately. But we'll always be great friends, hopefully.
I think that's where Meghann and Davo are at, too. Or perhaps I'm just being hopeful... I kinda think I would be a good balance of that... I'm not a twit but I'm still interested in le craziness.
But maybe it's the twitness and not the similarity that attracts him.
Man, I need to stop obsessing. Especially over fucking guys. Especially over fucking guys who don't even realize I exist. Or worse, see me as 'one of le dudes'.
Hm... maybe if I had a sex slave to satisfy my baser urges, I wouldn't feel the need to circle like a vulture over Davo.
Note to self, add "Find Sex Slave" to my to-do list.
You know who I also miss? Kurt. We seem to drift together and apart over the years. He's another one that I'll still be around for when the smoke clears, although in his case the drug of choice is testoterone. And lust.
Hm. He'd make a good sex slave, if he didn't live in Vancouver.
Okay, obviously this whole entry is going downhill fast.
I'm going to go curl up, I guess.
Lah.
But, because my conscience demands it, I'm going to sacrifice the joyful timelessness of my life and find/record the real date... which is, this day (Sunday, July 17th), but one year later.... Meaning 2006, not 2005.
Ughhh. I suppose this won't come as a surprise to most of the people close to me right now (like Becca and Mama)... but I'm falling for Davo. Er... a bit more than that, even. I think it's pretty safe to say that I already tripped and hit my head on this one.
I suppose the time when I got thumped with this knowledge was... Friday? I dunno the day. But before/around when we went to Stampede. We were talking, and I was teasing him about the twit (as usual) and he was telling me about how he was finally 100% over her. But that wasn't all he said. He said that it was partly because he liked someone else. Someone he told me to trust him was far from a twit. Someone he'd known a year and a half at least and that had been there for him all along.
Oh, here's the Chat Log.
| (1:32 PM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | there's a different girl i like..quite a bit too |
|---|---|
| (1:32 PM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | and shes nothing near a twit |
| (1:32 PM) Sayata - Come aw: | *shakes head* |
| (1:32 PM) Sayata - Come aw: | I'll believe it when I see it |
| (1:32 PM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | trust me on this one |
| (1:32 PM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | ive known her for a year and a half, and we've been tight the whole way through |
Damned if my heart didn't do a backflip and light up in hope.
| (1:33 PM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | and we would be dating right now probly, if matt hadnt interfered not so long ago |
|---|
And damned if it didn't curl up into a ball and shrivel when he continued to describe someone else.
But... ugh. Just... ugh. I swear, my heart was leaning forward going "Yes? Yesssss?", and meanwhile my mind was going "FUCK! There's no way you can fool yourself now! Look what your heart is doing!". And in that one instant, I wanted to murder that girl, even though I didn't know her.
Plus he fought with his best friend over her, and while they were fighting she went out and started dating someone else. I'd have to say "GOOD FOR HER!" on that one, but still. A chick he fought his bro for? Can we say, OFF-LIMITS?!? And doubly so because she's TAKEN!! I don't care if she says she still has feelings for him. If she REALLY had feelings with him, she'd break up with her boytoy and date him, damnit.
Although she DOES seem like a nice girl, I guess. I haven't met her. And anyone's fucking better than Jolyn, I suppose...
Actually, I really want to believe she's as amazing as he says. If I have to listen to him talk about him and some other random chick, let her at least be an amazing one who won't tear his heart in half.
It would be easier to just hate her.
This really bloody sucks though. I mean, it seems like all of his friends who are girls have had crushes on him at some point or another. I don't want to be one of the hordes. And he obviously sees me as a good non-romantic friend, because I get to hear about all of his love-life, and feelings (even ze purely physical ones) for girls. And I love that honesty. I really do. I don't know whether he's that way with only me or whether that's just the way he is, but I like hearing the whole story, not just what's appropriate.
But it still kinda hurts to hear him talk about every other girl on the fucking earth like that. It makes me feel kinda... well... boyish, I guess. Butch. Good enough to be a great friend, but someone who would obviously never be a love interest. I mean, he's having a bunch of girls over to make out this week. Yeah, yeah... it's Juniour High shit, but whatever. Fuck, I'd still love to be in on it! But no... I got to hear about how excited he is and how there's one chick gonna be there that he's really hot for (although that's as far as it goes).
It's just so many little things that I like... I like the short bursts that he talks in (although I'm starting to talk like that too after hanging with him... grrr), the way he smiles, the way he wanders randomly around his house... even his spiky hair and the weird way he hugs. Maybe I'm like him and just need somebody to obsess over. But hey, he could obsess over me any time he wants...
And then there's Tristan, although I think I've known for a while that it's well and truly over, if only because he's so straight. I know that he doesn't mind that I'm not... but I'd like to be able to chill and light one up with someone I love, or even be able to fucking have sex without knowing that he's freaked out over the possibility of me getting pregnant. I know that he accepts me for who I am... but I also know that he's not completely comfortable with it.
And yeah... I still want what I've always wanted... not just someone who likes me but someone who's completely gaga over me. And neither the SK or I was/is completely gaga over the other. I mean, come on. He's been gone three weeks and we've exchanged like two or three impersonal emails. Joy...
I think I just need a best friend again. Not that my friends aren't great, but there's nobody I'm super close to. That's my equal, and that I can talk to about absolutely anything at anytime. Learn from, and have them learn from me. No judgment.
Man, I miss Inga sometimes. But hey, I'll still be here when the smoke clears for her, to (embarassingly) quote Avril Lavigne. Her life is just too busy for me right now, especially since we live so far away.
And that, my dears, is a big part of my troubles. It'd be so much easier if I could see the people I love every day. Freedom. Freedom to wander and stay wherever and to live and love as I choose, with the barriers between that being mental and emotional and spiritual without the physical thrown in to make it THAT much harder.
He just told me that he's not sure that he likes Meghann as more than a friend! *grins manically*
I'm taking this news quite chilled-like.
I shouldn't be so happy.
This whole frigging issue has disappated my whole love of myself thing. I keep thinking that he's so lean and I'm so... voluptuous. All the cicas he's friends with seem to be tiny lil' things. Not super smart. Perky-like... and all interexchangeable. 'Cept Becca and me. Hence why I was surprised when we made it into his shout-outs. We're the kinda friends that (and no offense to my friends who do this) you use when you need us, then drop us into the background when you don't. Maybe we have serious conversations at night, but you don't always eat with us.
That's probably another reason I'm feeling so lonely. I mean, Blair always says she misses me, but it's not me who she's reminiscing about and putting pics of with her on her Nex page. Dallis might call or stop by, but his every second question is about the story he wanted me to read and comment on, or the orgy that I stupidly mentioned to him. Not that I'm even really interested in that anymore because it's just too planned.
| (3:44 AM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | she's not exactly the twit type i guess, meaning likes everything i like, and wants to party hard and go nuts and be stupid. she's different from me in some ways, but she is without a doubt gorgeous and like i said..probly one of the best friends i could ever have. |
|---|---|
| (3:45 AM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | i guess all of it just doesnt come in one package. its one or the other, and the twit way, just isnt working for me. |
| (3:45 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | Hm but all of that is head stuff |
| (3:46 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | What's your heart sayin'? |
| (3:46 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | Does your heart flip whenever someone mentions her? |
| (3:46 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | Are you always thinking of her? |
| (3:47 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | When you see something you love, is your first thought of showing it to her? |
| (3:48 AM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | i was thinking about her all tonight |
| (3:49 AM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | but she's not as... infatuating as the twit kind of girl |
| (3:50 AM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | but then again twits are ones that will never stick with you. she will. i want to be as crazed about her as i did jolyn and nikki..and morgan.. ugh |
| (3:50 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | Hm |
| (3:51 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | Well you have nothing to lose by going out with her I guess |
| (3:51 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | I mean, you seem like good enugh friends that your friendship could survive if it went downhill |
| (3:54 AM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | my hope is that she'll become as mind absorbing as anyone that i liked before her, once we start to get into being more than friends. i havent hung out with her that much, anyways. maybe more would open up some full and real feelings, maybe it'll come after we try and take a chance on it.. but yeah, no we would always stay close even if a relationship failed, im pretty sure at least.. |
| (3:54 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | Well there you go then... |
| (3:55 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | At least you'd know for sure |
| (3:55 AM) Ugh. I give up!: | And there are some people that you think are awesome but just aren't attracted to |
| (3:57 AM) | DaVo_.- . [[466-1107]] .>Fuck Authority<. ... I need you now, please hurry up and find me..wherever you are.. ...great night. has changed his/her personal message to "i want to be crazed about You.. but how is it that its not like that:(" |
| (3:57 AM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | but i am attracted to her. |
I swear, with every sentence my heart just sinks lower and lower. If he's not sure about his feelings for HER, what are the chances he ever likes ME? She seems like frigging superwoman and much more the type he seems to like than me. Ughhhhhhh.
| (3:58 AM) DaVo_.- . [[466-: | just.. the things in common thing, its a big deal to me usually. and she's more laid back and easy going and im more hardcore and wanting some crazyness. soemtimes you want soemone that will keep up with you and your ways.. |
|---|
EXACTLY!!! That's what I mean about me an' Tristan. We're just not on the same level. Maybe another time, when we're riding the same wavelength, but not now. Although I know that we'll never be on the same level like that, unfortunately. But we'll always be great friends, hopefully.
I think that's where Meghann and Davo are at, too. Or perhaps I'm just being hopeful... I kinda think I would be a good balance of that... I'm not a twit but I'm still interested in le craziness.
But maybe it's the twitness and not the similarity that attracts him.
Man, I need to stop obsessing. Especially over fucking guys. Especially over fucking guys who don't even realize I exist. Or worse, see me as 'one of le dudes'.
Hm... maybe if I had a sex slave to satisfy my baser urges, I wouldn't feel the need to circle like a vulture over Davo.
Note to self, add "Find Sex Slave" to my to-do list.
You know who I also miss? Kurt. We seem to drift together and apart over the years. He's another one that I'll still be around for when the smoke clears, although in his case the drug of choice is testoterone. And lust.
Hm. He'd make a good sex slave, if he didn't live in Vancouver.
Okay, obviously this whole entry is going downhill fast.
I'm going to go curl up, I guess.
Lah.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
The Birthday Issue
MistWeaver: G'day to you.
Voice in the Mist: These long periods of inactivity are irritating. I thought for sure last time you were telling the truth when you said you were back for good.
MistWeaver: I was. But then my laptop broke. And Blogger didn't work on the computer that was the family's. Even now, it doesn't quite work properly, but I'm sick of waiting.
Voice: Interesting. What gave you this sudden urge, hm?
MistWeaver: Actually, it's rather appropriate for me to write right now: after all, it's about a birthday. And the last entry was, too.
Voice: Who's birthday is it this time?
Weaver: Mine, of course. June 13th. That's tomorrow. But my party was held yesterday, with teh last of the guests having left a few hours ago.
Voice: Uh oh. A party. Those never turn out well.
Weaver: Actually, this one wasn't so bad. There were a few people that I would have preferred not being there, and a few I would have liked to be there but weren't, but what could I do about that?
Voice: Not invite them, perhaps?
Weaver: You know how I am. Too goddamned nice for my own good. A few weeks before my birthday, I was stupid enough to mention that I was having a party around the 11th and that everyone was invited.
Voice: Intelligent. I assume that later you hit yourself appropriately hard over the head?
Weaver: Indeed. About as soon as I remembered that I hate huge gatherings of people.
Voice: So what did you do about it?
Weaver: Nothing. I mean, what could I do? At least there were a few people there that really made it worth it. Like David, for example.
Voice: David? Not the one who messed with your friend?
Weaver: Of course not. He's still getting his karma hit back at him. No, I'm talking about David Sicorsky, a guy in my Spanish class who makes me mad every time I look at him.
Voice: Why's that? And why in the name of the mists did you invite him to your party?
Weaver: It's not him that makes me mad. Not exactly. It's how everybody treats him. I mean, he's one of the most awesome, amazing, funkay cool people I know, and people treat him like total shit. I just don't get it. It irritates me to no end, because he always has this aura of sadness around him at school that isn't there anywhere else and should not be there, ever.
Voice: Ah, I see. Another one of your lost souls. They should call you MistGuider, not MistWeaver.
Weaver: Eh, whatever. Guiding them through, parting the mists... It's all the same. But anyways. I'm here to tell a little bit about my party, not go on the Lost Souls rant, or the David rant.
Voice: Let's leave them for another day, then. Do go on.
Weaver: Well, it all starts out on Friday, when I invited Mindy Thurman, a good friend of mine that I almost forgot to invite to the party, and Amber
Whoops, phone call. Later.
Voice in the Mist: These long periods of inactivity are irritating. I thought for sure last time you were telling the truth when you said you were back for good.
MistWeaver: I was. But then my laptop broke. And Blogger didn't work on the computer that was the family's. Even now, it doesn't quite work properly, but I'm sick of waiting.
Voice: Interesting. What gave you this sudden urge, hm?
MistWeaver: Actually, it's rather appropriate for me to write right now: after all, it's about a birthday. And the last entry was, too.
Voice: Who's birthday is it this time?
Weaver: Mine, of course. June 13th. That's tomorrow. But my party was held yesterday, with teh last of the guests having left a few hours ago.
Voice: Uh oh. A party. Those never turn out well.
Weaver: Actually, this one wasn't so bad. There were a few people that I would have preferred not being there, and a few I would have liked to be there but weren't, but what could I do about that?
Voice: Not invite them, perhaps?
Weaver: You know how I am. Too goddamned nice for my own good. A few weeks before my birthday, I was stupid enough to mention that I was having a party around the 11th and that everyone was invited.
Voice: Intelligent. I assume that later you hit yourself appropriately hard over the head?
Weaver: Indeed. About as soon as I remembered that I hate huge gatherings of people.
Voice: So what did you do about it?
Weaver: Nothing. I mean, what could I do? At least there were a few people there that really made it worth it. Like David, for example.
Voice: David? Not the one who messed with your friend?
Weaver: Of course not. He's still getting his karma hit back at him. No, I'm talking about David Sicorsky, a guy in my Spanish class who makes me mad every time I look at him.
Voice: Why's that? And why in the name of the mists did you invite him to your party?
Weaver: It's not him that makes me mad. Not exactly. It's how everybody treats him. I mean, he's one of the most awesome, amazing, funkay cool people I know, and people treat him like total shit. I just don't get it. It irritates me to no end, because he always has this aura of sadness around him at school that isn't there anywhere else and should not be there, ever.
Voice: Ah, I see. Another one of your lost souls. They should call you MistGuider, not MistWeaver.
Weaver: Eh, whatever. Guiding them through, parting the mists... It's all the same. But anyways. I'm here to tell a little bit about my party, not go on the Lost Souls rant, or the David rant.
Voice: Let's leave them for another day, then. Do go on.
Weaver: Well, it all starts out on Friday, when I invited Mindy Thurman, a good friend of mine that I almost forgot to invite to the party, and Amber
Whoops, phone call. Later.
Sunday, April 17, 2005
Beautiful Bouncing Baby Boys' Birthdays Part I
MistWeaver: Ahhhhh, it's snowing!
Voice In The Mist: I've missed you too.
MistWeaver: Oh yeah. I've missed you as well. But if you could look beyond the mists in this place, you'd see that I do speak the truth.
Voice: I am the mist. Just because I reside in this place of confusion, unclarity, and untold beauty, doesn't mean I can't see outside of it.
Weaver: Yeah, yeah. I know. The snow is beautiful, but in my opinion mid-April is not the best time to be getting it. And to think, yesterday was a bright sunny, snowless day. Perfect for a party.
Voice: A birthday party?
Weaver: Aha! You catch on quickly! Indeed, a birthday party. For a beautiful bouncing baby boy. Ryan!
Voice: Except that he's not bouncing.
Weaver: I suppose not.
Voice: Or a baby.
Weaver: You're right, he's 16 now.
Voice: Or beautiful.
Weaver: That's your opinion.
Voice: And it wasn't his birthday.
Weaver: That's true. His real birthday's the 21st.
Voice: The way this is going, he's probably not a boy either.
Weaver: Yes, he is!
Voice: Well that's a relief, at least.
Weaver: In any case, I had a great time. I was kinda worried that I wouldn't, because every time I do go to a party at his house, I tend to have a crappy time. But this time it was fun. It started at an arcade...
Brian had taken his sweet time in getting ready to give me a ride, so I got to the mall 20 minutes late and was dumped off unceremoniously at the entrance with no clue where the arcade was. Lovely. Simply lovely. Late, alone, and lost.
As a small consolation, at least I looked good. Mama and I went shopping Friday, and I got this tunic I immediately fell in love with and was wearing with oriental orange poufy pants and ridiculous shoes with bows on the tips. I asked a man in a store where the arcade was, and he was happy to point me in the right direction. I wandered in, already going into my ghost persona (something I picked up from so much time in the mists: comepletely silent, closed in on myself, and fairly meek-looking) and searched for people I knew.
Luckily, Ryan wasn't hard to find with the black and white checkered band around his hat and checkered tie. He was playing (surprise, surprise) Dance Dance Revolution. Next to him, watching, was somebody else. I approached, first noticing the green and white striped stockings (the only colour of those stockings I don't own, preferring black and white), then the bowler hat, then the rest of the guy that I thought was wearing them. As I got closer, I realized that it was not a guy at all, but Ryan's friend Jace. Pity. The hat and stripes could have been sexy on a guy with the nerve to wear 'em.
Of the three other Ryan-friends there were, I knew two of them, Jace and Ian. I never have and still don't particularly like Jace. It's not a conscious thing: she just bugs me for a reason I don't really know. Of all the people to see first, especially while Ryan was busy, Jace wasn't the one I would've picked. So I did what I was used to doing: I went even deeper into ghost mode and leaned against the bar behind Ryan, watching him silently. At first I wondered if he'd noticed me, but I knew that he was too aware of his surroundings not to have.
Soon he finished and turned to me. I handed him the four newspaper-wrapped gifts with the crossed-candy-canes on top (I dove into my stash to supply them) and he told me to hang on to them for a second while he finished his game, then gave me a white paper bag filled with tokens. While he was stepping away at DDR, Micheline (his mother) appeared behind us.
Voice: Oh, joyous. Someone I'm sure you absolutely love.
Weaver: Uh huh. Not. I gave her the presents and Ryan finished his stage to turn to the rest of us. Insert Micheline-type convo (long, winding, and repetitive, with little input from us) and then we somehow ended up back in the other side with the kind of games where you win tickets and turn them in for prizes.
There I met the friend Justin, A dark-skinned cutie whom I didn't know, and found out that Ian had yet to arrive. Micheline kept showing Justin off to me when the others ran to play games and I hung back, calling him Ryan's best friend and oldest friend and church friend (the last probably being the reason she was calling him the other two, since I've never heard Ryan speak of Justin as either). In any case, I was impressed that they'd known each other so long, and that Justin was black.
The shock of seeing someone of my colouring as a friend of Ryan's, especially such a good friend, hit me in a surprising way. I'm not being a bigot; I was always so used to seeing tons of black kids around Montreal that the fact that there are next to none here had the sight of anybody coloured surprising me. Justin's around my normal colour, before I went all pale from lack of sunlight.
Voice: Maybe you'd tell us your natural colour?
Weaver: Of course. I used to be a dark golden brown. Right now it's kind of sickly gold, though. He has less gold and more brown.
Voice: On with the story.
MistWeaver: Indeed. So I stayed with the ghost act because it was the best I could do, and nodded and smiled at Micheline's chatter, and then fled as soon as I could. Ryan showed me all the different games, and I nodded and smiled at him where applicable and wasted lots of tokens playing them, trailing after the others and eventually going off on my own. I figured they wouldn't miss me, and that way nobody had to show me everything and make me feel even more like an outsider.
I saw Ian arrive, but he didn't see me. I smiled to see him. I really like that boy, odd as he is. A computer genius who's paranoid of anything abnormal (which makes the fact that his best friends are Jace and Ryan and their group even weirder), he doesn't like going places without parental supervision. Tell me, what 16 year old wants parental supervision everywhere? It's unnatural, but endearing.
When Ian did notice me (I think Ryan pointed me out to him), he gave a real smile (to my surprise) and said hi. He seemed as genuinely glad to see me as I was to see him. Weird, but uplifting. I think I may have actually regained a bit of life at that point, lost the transperancy a little. I know it felt like I did.
What I really wanted to do throughout all of this was try DDR, but I didn't want to disappear and have Micheline worry or something. But she left once Ian arrived, so I drifted into the video arcade and to my surprise (and I'll admit it, chagrin) Ryan followed me, and Jace and Ian followed him. I'm happy to say that the quiet Justin stayed in the tickets place, winning hundreds of tickets. I forfeited all of mine to Ryan, so that he could do whatever he wanted with them.
Ryan set me up on the game, choosing a song and everything for me. Again, I was a mix of grateful and wishing that he would go away. On one hand, it was nice to have him set it up since I hadn't played since it first came out, but on the other hand, I felt kinda spineless since the others were all watching, and I'm not used to depending on anyone for anything. After all, if I had been alone, I wouldn't have been in ghost mode, and I could have laughed and muddled my way through it, feeling only slightly stupid.
I also discovered something else at that moment: I bloody suck. He kept asking me if I wanted to put it harder, but every time I agreed, I failed miserably. He had much more faith in me than I had in myself, I can say that much. He kept telling me that if it was too difficult, he'd finish it up for me so that I wouldn't get a game over (yeah, right. Over my dead body would I let him finish a game for me and emphasize even more my lack of prowess).
Finally, Jace came and demanded her tickets from Ryan (who had pooled them all) and everyone went away to play their own game of DDR a little bit away. I thankfully relaxed at my lack of audience (and still sucked). When I was done, I noticed that they had all disappeared but Ian, who I was amused to find had fallen as much in love with the game as I had (although he fared somewhat better at his own first attempts).
Wandering around the arcade trying to find out if they had Tekken, the game that I used to adore, I noticed a few shooting games. Once, Kai brought home a plugin gun from his friends, and I found that much as I despise arms in real life, in games I love using them and was quite good at them, provided I had a real gun and not just a joystick. I didn't have very many token left, so I tried a three token game. And found out that it had the nasty tendency to eat tokens and the gun needed major calibrating, causing all my shots to go off some four or five inches to the left of where I shot. So I tried another. And it was worse. Finally I went to find an attendant to ask if I could get a refund on my tokens.
I met Jace, Ian, Justin and Ryan there, and discovered that they were unpooling the tickets to get various individual prizes. I gave Ryan my twenty left from what I hadn't previously forked over and asked the attendant for my tokens. He told me I couldn't have them back, but to tell him the game I wanted to play and he'd give me credit for it. I showed him DDR (I couldn't resist) and he gave me four credits. Except that they were equivalent to four games, not four credits for one game. Score! Of course, someone accidentally pressed a button on the first screen so I ended up playing my first game as one person using two pads. Aye yi yi, as if one pad weren't enough. Hopping from one to the other, once I finally figured out what was going on... O.O Twas hard, and impossible.
When I finished, I turned to the entrance to wander around outside (I had no tokens left) and saw Ian coming towards me. He smiled and motioned to me and said that the group had decided to be idiots. I laughed and followed him and we chatted. I discovered the others were throwing things off the balcony then running down to get them and doing it again. Mostly, it was toy soldiers with parachutes, but Jace was pointing her laser pointer at things and people too. I'm just glad that she was smart enough not to go near me with it, since she had the tendency to wave it in people's eyes.
After they tired of their game, we walked downstairs and Ryan encountered dudes he knew. Ian and I went back up while he, Jace and Justin chatted with the people. I tried sliding down the banister, but I wasn't wearing slippery enough clothing and every time I lifted my hands from the rail to go faster, Ian freaked. Psh. We were only a few stories up.
I thank the mists again and again that he was there. At least with him there (and Justin too, though he was too quiet for it to be a big thing) I wasn't the odd one out. For some reason, whether it's my way of thinking, or my likes and dislikes, or even the age difference, I always feel so abnormal around Ryan's friends. Maybe it's how Ryan's different with them. Oh, I don't mean that he's a completely different person, but with me we don't talk about who's better at video games, or whatever current things are going on at school, or chat about common acquaintances, simply because I don't play the games he does, nor do I own any of the platforms, I don't go to his school, and I don't know any of the people he does.
Anyways. In a little while, everyone joined us, and we saw Micheline in a wheelchair and slippers coming towards us. I guessed by the unsurprised look on Ryan's face (and the fact that she always parks in handicapped spots and tells me all about the various things wrong with her body) that it wasn't unusual for things like this to occur. Honestly, it occurs to me that she might be a bit of a hypochondriac. Then again, I come from a family where we don't share all of our problems with everyone and anyone we meet. She makes it a point to tell everybody everything about her. Personally, I could do with not knowing when she has a yeast infection, or about the problems with her marriage, or even the reasons that Ryan needs babying. But like I said, I'm a very personal person.
Voice: Who likes to write.
Weaver: Indeed. That's how I express myself. I can exagerate or downplay or create or destroy. It's my world, and I can do with it what I will.
Voice In The Mist: Much like the mists. There can be endless amounts of things hidden in it.
MistWeaver: Very true. The world could be dying and you'd never know... But I digress. I have indeed missed talking to you, but I do believe I shall end my tale here. This was basically all of the unfun part, anyway. It got better, much better, and by the end I didn't want to go home. I'll chit chat later, for I have projects to work on. Tah!
Harmony,
MistWeaver
Voice In The Mist: I've missed you too.
MistWeaver: Oh yeah. I've missed you as well. But if you could look beyond the mists in this place, you'd see that I do speak the truth.
Voice: I am the mist. Just because I reside in this place of confusion, unclarity, and untold beauty, doesn't mean I can't see outside of it.
Weaver: Yeah, yeah. I know. The snow is beautiful, but in my opinion mid-April is not the best time to be getting it. And to think, yesterday was a bright sunny, snowless day. Perfect for a party.
Voice: A birthday party?
Weaver: Aha! You catch on quickly! Indeed, a birthday party. For a beautiful bouncing baby boy. Ryan!
Voice: Except that he's not bouncing.
Weaver: I suppose not.
Voice: Or a baby.
Weaver: You're right, he's 16 now.
Voice: Or beautiful.
Weaver: That's your opinion.
Voice: And it wasn't his birthday.
Weaver: That's true. His real birthday's the 21st.
Voice: The way this is going, he's probably not a boy either.
Weaver: Yes, he is!
Voice: Well that's a relief, at least.
Weaver: In any case, I had a great time. I was kinda worried that I wouldn't, because every time I do go to a party at his house, I tend to have a crappy time. But this time it was fun. It started at an arcade...
Brian had taken his sweet time in getting ready to give me a ride, so I got to the mall 20 minutes late and was dumped off unceremoniously at the entrance with no clue where the arcade was. Lovely. Simply lovely. Late, alone, and lost.
As a small consolation, at least I looked good. Mama and I went shopping Friday, and I got this tunic I immediately fell in love with and was wearing with oriental orange poufy pants and ridiculous shoes with bows on the tips. I asked a man in a store where the arcade was, and he was happy to point me in the right direction. I wandered in, already going into my ghost persona (something I picked up from so much time in the mists: comepletely silent, closed in on myself, and fairly meek-looking) and searched for people I knew.
Luckily, Ryan wasn't hard to find with the black and white checkered band around his hat and checkered tie. He was playing (surprise, surprise) Dance Dance Revolution. Next to him, watching, was somebody else. I approached, first noticing the green and white striped stockings (the only colour of those stockings I don't own, preferring black and white), then the bowler hat, then the rest of the guy that I thought was wearing them. As I got closer, I realized that it was not a guy at all, but Ryan's friend Jace. Pity. The hat and stripes could have been sexy on a guy with the nerve to wear 'em.
Of the three other Ryan-friends there were, I knew two of them, Jace and Ian. I never have and still don't particularly like Jace. It's not a conscious thing: she just bugs me for a reason I don't really know. Of all the people to see first, especially while Ryan was busy, Jace wasn't the one I would've picked. So I did what I was used to doing: I went even deeper into ghost mode and leaned against the bar behind Ryan, watching him silently. At first I wondered if he'd noticed me, but I knew that he was too aware of his surroundings not to have.
Soon he finished and turned to me. I handed him the four newspaper-wrapped gifts with the crossed-candy-canes on top (I dove into my stash to supply them) and he told me to hang on to them for a second while he finished his game, then gave me a white paper bag filled with tokens. While he was stepping away at DDR, Micheline (his mother) appeared behind us.
Voice: Oh, joyous. Someone I'm sure you absolutely love.
Weaver: Uh huh. Not. I gave her the presents and Ryan finished his stage to turn to the rest of us. Insert Micheline-type convo (long, winding, and repetitive, with little input from us) and then we somehow ended up back in the other side with the kind of games where you win tickets and turn them in for prizes.
There I met the friend Justin, A dark-skinned cutie whom I didn't know, and found out that Ian had yet to arrive. Micheline kept showing Justin off to me when the others ran to play games and I hung back, calling him Ryan's best friend and oldest friend and church friend (the last probably being the reason she was calling him the other two, since I've never heard Ryan speak of Justin as either). In any case, I was impressed that they'd known each other so long, and that Justin was black.
The shock of seeing someone of my colouring as a friend of Ryan's, especially such a good friend, hit me in a surprising way. I'm not being a bigot; I was always so used to seeing tons of black kids around Montreal that the fact that there are next to none here had the sight of anybody coloured surprising me. Justin's around my normal colour, before I went all pale from lack of sunlight.
Voice: Maybe you'd tell us your natural colour?
Weaver: Of course. I used to be a dark golden brown. Right now it's kind of sickly gold, though. He has less gold and more brown.
Voice: On with the story.
MistWeaver: Indeed. So I stayed with the ghost act because it was the best I could do, and nodded and smiled at Micheline's chatter, and then fled as soon as I could. Ryan showed me all the different games, and I nodded and smiled at him where applicable and wasted lots of tokens playing them, trailing after the others and eventually going off on my own. I figured they wouldn't miss me, and that way nobody had to show me everything and make me feel even more like an outsider.
I saw Ian arrive, but he didn't see me. I smiled to see him. I really like that boy, odd as he is. A computer genius who's paranoid of anything abnormal (which makes the fact that his best friends are Jace and Ryan and their group even weirder), he doesn't like going places without parental supervision. Tell me, what 16 year old wants parental supervision everywhere? It's unnatural, but endearing.
When Ian did notice me (I think Ryan pointed me out to him), he gave a real smile (to my surprise) and said hi. He seemed as genuinely glad to see me as I was to see him. Weird, but uplifting. I think I may have actually regained a bit of life at that point, lost the transperancy a little. I know it felt like I did.
What I really wanted to do throughout all of this was try DDR, but I didn't want to disappear and have Micheline worry or something. But she left once Ian arrived, so I drifted into the video arcade and to my surprise (and I'll admit it, chagrin) Ryan followed me, and Jace and Ian followed him. I'm happy to say that the quiet Justin stayed in the tickets place, winning hundreds of tickets. I forfeited all of mine to Ryan, so that he could do whatever he wanted with them.
Ryan set me up on the game, choosing a song and everything for me. Again, I was a mix of grateful and wishing that he would go away. On one hand, it was nice to have him set it up since I hadn't played since it first came out, but on the other hand, I felt kinda spineless since the others were all watching, and I'm not used to depending on anyone for anything. After all, if I had been alone, I wouldn't have been in ghost mode, and I could have laughed and muddled my way through it, feeling only slightly stupid.
I also discovered something else at that moment: I bloody suck. He kept asking me if I wanted to put it harder, but every time I agreed, I failed miserably. He had much more faith in me than I had in myself, I can say that much. He kept telling me that if it was too difficult, he'd finish it up for me so that I wouldn't get a game over (yeah, right. Over my dead body would I let him finish a game for me and emphasize even more my lack of prowess).
Finally, Jace came and demanded her tickets from Ryan (who had pooled them all) and everyone went away to play their own game of DDR a little bit away. I thankfully relaxed at my lack of audience (and still sucked). When I was done, I noticed that they had all disappeared but Ian, who I was amused to find had fallen as much in love with the game as I had (although he fared somewhat better at his own first attempts).
Wandering around the arcade trying to find out if they had Tekken, the game that I used to adore, I noticed a few shooting games. Once, Kai brought home a plugin gun from his friends, and I found that much as I despise arms in real life, in games I love using them and was quite good at them, provided I had a real gun and not just a joystick. I didn't have very many token left, so I tried a three token game. And found out that it had the nasty tendency to eat tokens and the gun needed major calibrating, causing all my shots to go off some four or five inches to the left of where I shot. So I tried another. And it was worse. Finally I went to find an attendant to ask if I could get a refund on my tokens.
I met Jace, Ian, Justin and Ryan there, and discovered that they were unpooling the tickets to get various individual prizes. I gave Ryan my twenty left from what I hadn't previously forked over and asked the attendant for my tokens. He told me I couldn't have them back, but to tell him the game I wanted to play and he'd give me credit for it. I showed him DDR (I couldn't resist) and he gave me four credits. Except that they were equivalent to four games, not four credits for one game. Score! Of course, someone accidentally pressed a button on the first screen so I ended up playing my first game as one person using two pads. Aye yi yi, as if one pad weren't enough. Hopping from one to the other, once I finally figured out what was going on... O.O Twas hard, and impossible.
When I finished, I turned to the entrance to wander around outside (I had no tokens left) and saw Ian coming towards me. He smiled and motioned to me and said that the group had decided to be idiots. I laughed and followed him and we chatted. I discovered the others were throwing things off the balcony then running down to get them and doing it again. Mostly, it was toy soldiers with parachutes, but Jace was pointing her laser pointer at things and people too. I'm just glad that she was smart enough not to go near me with it, since she had the tendency to wave it in people's eyes.
After they tired of their game, we walked downstairs and Ryan encountered dudes he knew. Ian and I went back up while he, Jace and Justin chatted with the people. I tried sliding down the banister, but I wasn't wearing slippery enough clothing and every time I lifted my hands from the rail to go faster, Ian freaked. Psh. We were only a few stories up.
I thank the mists again and again that he was there. At least with him there (and Justin too, though he was too quiet for it to be a big thing) I wasn't the odd one out. For some reason, whether it's my way of thinking, or my likes and dislikes, or even the age difference, I always feel so abnormal around Ryan's friends. Maybe it's how Ryan's different with them. Oh, I don't mean that he's a completely different person, but with me we don't talk about who's better at video games, or whatever current things are going on at school, or chat about common acquaintances, simply because I don't play the games he does, nor do I own any of the platforms, I don't go to his school, and I don't know any of the people he does.
Anyways. In a little while, everyone joined us, and we saw Micheline in a wheelchair and slippers coming towards us. I guessed by the unsurprised look on Ryan's face (and the fact that she always parks in handicapped spots and tells me all about the various things wrong with her body) that it wasn't unusual for things like this to occur. Honestly, it occurs to me that she might be a bit of a hypochondriac. Then again, I come from a family where we don't share all of our problems with everyone and anyone we meet. She makes it a point to tell everybody everything about her. Personally, I could do with not knowing when she has a yeast infection, or about the problems with her marriage, or even the reasons that Ryan needs babying. But like I said, I'm a very personal person.
Voice: Who likes to write.
Weaver: Indeed. That's how I express myself. I can exagerate or downplay or create or destroy. It's my world, and I can do with it what I will.
Voice In The Mist: Much like the mists. There can be endless amounts of things hidden in it.
MistWeaver: Very true. The world could be dying and you'd never know... But I digress. I have indeed missed talking to you, but I do believe I shall end my tale here. This was basically all of the unfun part, anyway. It got better, much better, and by the end I didn't want to go home. I'll chit chat later, for I have projects to work on. Tah!
Harmony,
MistWeaver
Friday, April 15, 2005
Back and Black and Saving the World
The answer is, I am!
Yes indeedy. Things are mostly sorted out and I live to serve all you faithfuls who have kept up and borne with me through this difficult time. I hope to no longer have to neglect my blog for a very long time, but I can't make any promises.
Basically, there are a couple of big new items going around in my life. It's a new semester (and it's over half finished already o.O), so I have all new classes. They happen to be much harder ones, too. I know, I know... I get no breaks... *feels sorry for herself for a half second*
The absolute most important thing going on in my life right now is the Weekend To End Breast Cancer. If you live near Toronto, Vancouver, Calgary or Montreal, you may have heard of this. Basically, it's a two-day 60 kilometre walk to raise money and awareness for breast cancer. Everybody who participates has to raise a minimum of 2000 dollars, and most people raise double that or more. Thousands of people from these four cities, each raising tons and tons of money? That's not something to scoff at. Hundreds of millions of dollars being raised. We truly are the end.
But we can't be, I can't be, without raising the money. My grandmother died of breast cancer, and both my mother and I are at really high risk. I don't want to have to go through the suffering of someone I love dying; not again. I don't want to die, either. Especially if I have kids one day. What I went through when my grandmother died, what I watched happen to my mother when her best friend died... it was all horrible and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Every single person that I help, any life that I save, makes it all worthwhile.
In Canada, one in 9 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer. One in three will die from it. 407 women are diagnosed on average every week. Look around at any large group of people you know: a classroom, an office. Now look again and think about the fact that at least a few of them will die an early death. Look around a class and know that not all of the girls in it will live to see sixty. Look around your office and know that you may not be working with a women in a few years because she's dead. If that thought doesn't affect you at all, maybe you should take another look at your own life and your priorities.
So basically what I'm saying is that as my first act of the reestablishment of my blog, I'm asking you to help me on this. Here's a link to my personal page on the Weekend site:
http://cl05.endcancer.ca/site/TR?pg=personal&fr_id=1000&px=1162598
If it doesn't work, try www.endcancer.ca and search for my in the list of walkers. My name is Aya Gabriel. My site has the abridged story of my grandmother's death, and my dream for this walk. I would like to ask everybody to donate a hundred and fifty dollars, but I know it's not likely to happen. So instead, I'm asking everyone who reads this to donate 30$. If you can afford more, I would really appreciate it. Online, secure donations can be transacted by credit card, and if you can't do that, contact me at that.misty.place@gmail.com and we can arrange something. Ask your parents, friends, siblings relatives, because everybody has been affected in some way by this disease. Copy this, forward it, link it. Do the same for my and my mother's personal page. If you really don't have much money to donate, anything you have brings me closer to my goal and closer to a cure.
The walk is August 12th to 14th, 2005. My mother, Thelia Foster, is also walking. Together, it's us two alone with thousands of other women and men across Canada. I'm probably going to be keeping my blog updated with my progress, because it's such a huge part of my life right now.
Again, thanks you to everyone who's kept right with my blog through the hiatus and the tough period beforehand. Thanks to anyone and everyone who donates. Hugs for all! Harmony and love, peace through the ages, and Goddess bless.
We are the end.
MistWeaver
Yes indeedy. Things are mostly sorted out and I live to serve all you faithfuls who have kept up and borne with me through this difficult time. I hope to no longer have to neglect my blog for a very long time, but I can't make any promises.
Basically, there are a couple of big new items going around in my life. It's a new semester (and it's over half finished already o.O), so I have all new classes. They happen to be much harder ones, too. I know, I know... I get no breaks... *feels sorry for herself for a half second*
The absolute most important thing going on in my life right now is the Weekend To End Breast Cancer. If you live near Toronto, Vancouver, Calgary or Montreal, you may have heard of this. Basically, it's a two-day 60 kilometre walk to raise money and awareness for breast cancer. Everybody who participates has to raise a minimum of 2000 dollars, and most people raise double that or more. Thousands of people from these four cities, each raising tons and tons of money? That's not something to scoff at. Hundreds of millions of dollars being raised. We truly are the end.
But we can't be, I can't be, without raising the money. My grandmother died of breast cancer, and both my mother and I are at really high risk. I don't want to have to go through the suffering of someone I love dying; not again. I don't want to die, either. Especially if I have kids one day. What I went through when my grandmother died, what I watched happen to my mother when her best friend died... it was all horrible and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Every single person that I help, any life that I save, makes it all worthwhile.
In Canada, one in 9 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer. One in three will die from it. 407 women are diagnosed on average every week. Look around at any large group of people you know: a classroom, an office. Now look again and think about the fact that at least a few of them will die an early death. Look around a class and know that not all of the girls in it will live to see sixty. Look around your office and know that you may not be working with a women in a few years because she's dead. If that thought doesn't affect you at all, maybe you should take another look at your own life and your priorities.
So basically what I'm saying is that as my first act of the reestablishment of my blog, I'm asking you to help me on this. Here's a link to my personal page on the Weekend site:
http://cl05.endcancer.ca/site/TR?pg=personal&fr_id=1000&px=1162598
If it doesn't work, try www.endcancer.ca and search for my in the list of walkers. My name is Aya Gabriel. My site has the abridged story of my grandmother's death, and my dream for this walk. I would like to ask everybody to donate a hundred and fifty dollars, but I know it's not likely to happen. So instead, I'm asking everyone who reads this to donate 30$. If you can afford more, I would really appreciate it. Online, secure donations can be transacted by credit card, and if you can't do that, contact me at that.misty.place@gmail.com and we can arrange something. Ask your parents, friends, siblings relatives, because everybody has been affected in some way by this disease. Copy this, forward it, link it. Do the same for my and my mother's personal page. If you really don't have much money to donate, anything you have brings me closer to my goal and closer to a cure.
The walk is August 12th to 14th, 2005. My mother, Thelia Foster, is also walking. Together, it's us two alone with thousands of other women and men across Canada. I'm probably going to be keeping my blog updated with my progress, because it's such a huge part of my life right now.
Again, thanks you to everyone who's kept right with my blog through the hiatus and the tough period beforehand. Thanks to anyone and everyone who donates. Hugs for all! Harmony and love, peace through the ages, and Goddess bless.
We are the end.
MistWeaver
Thursday, March 24, 2005
IMPORTANT NOTICE!
In case you haven't noticed from the lack of posts in the past three weeks, Talking With The Mists is on a temporary hiatus. For various reasons that I won't name here, I won't be updating my blog anytime in the next while. I'm in the middle of many things, including bringing up all my marks, so this misty place will be on pause for an indefinite amount of time. Move on with your lives! Do something useful with the time you usually spend reading me and the Voice's convos! If you don't want to keep checking this page (I'll be updating it with info every couple of weeks or something like that, then send me an email that.misty.place@gmail.com and I'll send you the updates directly.
Thanks for wanting to explore the mists, and I hope you keep reading once it's back up.
Love and harmony to all of you,
MistWeaver
Thanks for wanting to explore the mists, and I hope you keep reading once it's back up.
Love and harmony to all of you,
MistWeaver
Sunday, March 06, 2005
Book time!
MistWeaver: Okey Dokey, first things first. No more apologizing. I've been uncountably busy, blah blah blah... you know the excuses. Basically, am going to try and update fully at least once a week and bully for you if you want more. Hopefully I'll slowly up the entry count as I get more time and settle back into routine.
Voice In The Mist: That's nice, dear. I've missed you.
MistWeaver: Woah, you being nice. Everybody, a moment of silence. You must have really missed me.
Voice: *snorts* More like I've missed your antics. So whatcha been up to, other than play hide-and-go-seek with a bunch of teenage girls you invited to your house.
Weaver: Technically, Rebecca invited them. And much more has happened since then. It's been what, two weeks now?
Voice: Something like that.
MistWeaver: Yup it was, and you are no longer looking at Aya Gabriel, novelist. You are looking at Aya Gabriel, acclaimed novelist and bookseller. That's right. I am sitting in front of 21 copies of my book, and have already sold close to 10. I have also given two seminars in a writer's conference, and been asked for my autograph.
Voice: Busy gal, you are. So tell me, how did you come to speak in a writer's seminar and get your book published?
Weaver: First off, it's not published. I just got it professionally bound at Kinko's. But it sure looks nice enough. Secondly, the conference thingie was called Write Off The Wall, and it was at my brother's school. But there were many other published authors there, and I was invited to speak. The day before the big event, Kai informed me tha ti could sell my novel there if I wanted, so the night before was spent frantically printing and binding copies of the novel by hand. I was so exhausted I couldn't think, and Mama majorly saved my butt by coming home late with 9 finished and bound copies of my book from Kinkos. It was all I could do not to fall on my knees and kiss teh ground she walked on in thanks. I was able to go to bed in peace.
Crap. I really hate doing this again, but I have to go after our new dog, Whiskey. Indeed, I do have much to report! I swear to Earth I'll finish this tomorrow.
MistWeaver
Voice In The Mist: That's nice, dear. I've missed you.
MistWeaver: Woah, you being nice. Everybody, a moment of silence. You must have really missed me.
Voice: *snorts* More like I've missed your antics. So whatcha been up to, other than play hide-and-go-seek with a bunch of teenage girls you invited to your house.
Weaver: Technically, Rebecca invited them. And much more has happened since then. It's been what, two weeks now?
Voice: Something like that.
MistWeaver: Yup it was, and you are no longer looking at Aya Gabriel, novelist. You are looking at Aya Gabriel, acclaimed novelist and bookseller. That's right. I am sitting in front of 21 copies of my book, and have already sold close to 10. I have also given two seminars in a writer's conference, and been asked for my autograph.
Voice: Busy gal, you are. So tell me, how did you come to speak in a writer's seminar and get your book published?
Weaver: First off, it's not published. I just got it professionally bound at Kinko's. But it sure looks nice enough. Secondly, the conference thingie was called Write Off The Wall, and it was at my brother's school. But there were many other published authors there, and I was invited to speak. The day before the big event, Kai informed me tha ti could sell my novel there if I wanted, so the night before was spent frantically printing and binding copies of the novel by hand. I was so exhausted I couldn't think, and Mama majorly saved my butt by coming home late with 9 finished and bound copies of my book from Kinkos. It was all I could do not to fall on my knees and kiss teh ground she walked on in thanks. I was able to go to bed in peace.
Crap. I really hate doing this again, but I have to go after our new dog, Whiskey. Indeed, I do have much to report! I swear to Earth I'll finish this tomorrow.
MistWeaver
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