Let's Go Get Stoned.

I swear sometimes you're taking me for granted;
I swear sometimes you're a whore.
I swear but I know there ain't no reason.
'Cause everything is such a bore...

Last night I had a dream, though it made me sick:
Saw you in your bedroom, sucking someone else's--
My friends all laughed, said it was my fault...
'Said it's time that it happened to me.
But I know that the show was much more than a blow,
So I'm waiting for the tide to get low.

If I was an ant crawling upon the wall,
Tell me baby would it make any difference at all?
If I was a roach on a tree, tell me, would you smoke me?
Bright lights... put me in a trance...
But it ain't house music, makes me want to dance.
I don't gamble but I bet,
I'm gonna die if I don't get a cigarette.
Hold me close, I always play the mack
with this monkey on my back.

Sublime.

Lah.

Classes and Fog.

Voice: It's about time. I've been waiting forever, trying to get your attention.

Weaver: I know it's been a while, but you said that you were always here when I needed you, and I haven't needed you for a while now.

Voice: I take offense to that. I'm your friend too, you know. Not just your confidante.

Weaver: I know. I said I'm sorry.

Voice: Apology accepted.

Weaver: You certainly succeeded in getting my attention though, I have to say. All this mist is a beautiful thing.

Voice: The mist was Vancouver. I just helped you see me in it.

Weaver: Aside from the fact that I can't see you at all... How could I not? I've been heading towards this my entire life. I wonder if that's what all this obsession with mist all these years has been about. People look around outside and shrug, continuing on their normal paths. Some are too oblivious to even really notice the splendor in it. Some have lived with it forever and are jaded, and still others simply look around at the inaction of everybody else and mimic it, ruthlessly subduing their natural inclination to stop and admire it.

Voice: But such will always be people.

Weaver: The other day on the bus, watching them sluggishly refuse to move to the back and make room, I could help but think that they're all useless sheep.

Voice: All of them? Really?

Weaver: Pretty much. I don't want to have contempt for the human race in general, but sometimes...

Voice: Look below the surface skin and see the individual talents. Everyone has a purpose. Everyone has a role to play.

Weaver: I suppose.

Voice: Is this really why you came back to see me?

Weaver: To be honest, I'm not sure why I came back to see you. Just lonely, I guess. So much has changed so fast. And yet not fast at all. I've been preparing for this my whole life.

Voice: Preparing to move out and go to University?

Weaver: Not quite... Although I've been preparing to move out for some time. But it feels like my entire life has been training and finally I've moved into the last legs: practical application of knowledge.

Voice: What is University, if not practical?

Weaver: It's showing me the other side so that I can reject it. It's showing me that I'm capable of pursuing, but not meant to live in, this academic world.

Voice: Are you enjoying these lessons?

Weaver: Very much so, in some ways. And I love Vancouver so much, I feel so much like I belong here, and despite the occasional sheeplike quality that the masses have, I like the population here in general. Kellin loves it too, and it's good for him.... And I love him.

Voice: Then what's the problem?

Weaver: The problem is that I only have him. I would love some friends... Well, that's not true. I don't want friends... I want more family. I'm finding it harder and harder to translate from offhand banter to close friendship. I don't want to have to deal with people in order to get to the close friend stage.

Voice: Nothing worth having comes free. Suck it up or stop bitching.

Weaver: Okay, let me rephrase that... I haven't really met anyone that I want to make that effort for. Or anyone who seems to want to make that effort for me. And the few possibilities that I've had... it just didn't happen. There was no mesh.

Voice: Well, the way I see it, there are two possibilities... The first is that one of you didn't try hard enough, or you didn't open up and let them in. The other is that it just wasn't there, and no matter how hard either of you try, if it's just not there then it's just not there.

Weaver: Which do you think it is?

Voice: I think you answered your own question before, when you said there was no mesh. Sometimes one will form by chance or time, but if it doesn't... what can you really do?

Weaver: That's what I was asking you.

Voice: You can continue to try, and put it out there. How much you work at it is up to you. The more you do, the more chance you have of stumbling upon it, but also the more energy you'll use up in the process.

Weaver: A fair trade, I suppose.

Voice (beginning to fade): Was that all?

Weaver: Not quite. I just want to talk a little. Possibly at you, if not with you.

Voice: There's no time here. Speak all you want.

Weaver: It's getting faster. The spiral is getting smaller.

Voice: Downward spirals always get smaller at the bottom. It's their nature.

Weaver: It's getting smaller, and all of us here who are drifting along it are spinning quicker. It's driving people insane.

Voice: There's always a balance.

Weaver: Yes, some people are rising to the occasion. It seems like everyone is drifting to either one side or another... the grey area is shrinking too. It's not long now until we hit the bottom.

Voice: Where are you going with this?

Weaver: I don't know. Just feel the need to comment on it every once in a while. I look around at the papers and everything turned on it's ear. When I first heard the Olympics were coming to Vancouver I was so excited. They came to Montreal a decade or more before I was born and they came to Calgary only a few years before. I thought that they were finally catching up to me in Van.

Voice: My guess that the spinning of the spiral changed something.

Weaver: Yes, of course. It changes everything. All of a sudden I question the Olympics themselves. What are they? A chance for athletes to prove their skills, certainly. But there are separate events that mean as much or more to the individual sports.

Voice: They don't have it all together in one place.

Weaver: But who cares if they're together in one place? I'll tell you who... the media. The advertising people, and therefore the entire population. And that's what's making them cling so tenuously to an event that has no purpose other than to help enslave the masses.

Voice: That's a strong term.

Weaver: You haven't read the papers. The economy's going down the shithole, whether from actual recession or just public paranoia, and the city is spending more and more and more every week on underbudgeted costs for the Olympics. They're asking to 'temporarily' suspend the public's right to vote on whether or not they can take more money to fill these extra costs. Because there was some sort of kerfuffle over who got to vote for Vancouver to have the Olympics in the first place, this issue is dividing the province somewhat.

Voice: And people are standing for this?

Weaver: People are divided. That's a problem. It makes me wonder whether it will be these Olympics that break Vancouver.

Voice: It makes sense.

Weaver: Let's look at Van. BC is years ahead of other provinces for being Green, and the people are mostly tuned in. People are prepared (generally) for what's to come. The climate's changing, but not radically.

Voice: Then how did this Olympic thing come into being?

Weaver: Tuned in doesn't mean there aren't capitalist pigs, useless sheep, and all the other little bits and pieces that make up society. And all of the Olympic building is based on projected income that the Games will generate. But what if the Games don't generate it? What if in the end the Games only do exactly what they look like they're doing now: choke the city to death? The games are in 2010... That's long enough to really get themselves even more fucked into a hole than they are. But the worst effects usually aren't felt right away. What if they just hide the symptoms and it festers, getting worse until in 2012 shit just... collapses? Or something similar?

Voice: It could happen.

Weaver: I'm afraid it will happen. I know I'm supposed to be here for a reason, and not just because here is where I fit. It needs me as much as I need it.

Voice: I guess we'll see.

Weaver: I guess we will... I've got to go now.

Voice: I know. You said what you needed to.

Weaver: I'll be back.

Voice: I know. You'll be back when you need to be. I'll be here.

Weaver: I'm sorry it's been so long.

Voice: Waiting isn't so bad as all of that. There's no time here, and I watch.

Weaver: I love you.

Voice (fading): I love you too.

Lah.

PENS!!!!

PENSPENSPENSPENSPENSPENSPENSPENSPENS

I love pens. I lose my black pen in Skye or Edinburgh (or perhaps in between the two) and have been dissatisfied ever since. I finally forked over a pound 50 for two pens that promised to be ‘smooth’, but was sorely disappointed when it turned out to be thick and wet... Okay, but just as dissatisfying as a blue pen. Grr... But then I found a cup full of pens on the bar, and ALL BUT ONE are BLACK!!! GOOD BLACK!!! And one is almost the double of the one I lost.

-swoons-

Yeah, so I’m odd.

Lah.

...That Daring Young Woman Screaming On the Flying Trapeze.

I am now an official Ape. I have the certificate to prove it.

Heh, Blair and I just finished the Go Ape! Experience, doing various heart-dislocating crossings, jumps, and swings through the canopies of huge old tree.

Definitely made this whole Lake District thing worth it. I’m now chilling, listening to music on the way back, trying to ignore my raging nausea in the car.

I’m not sure why I’m so ill: hunger probably, since I haven’t eaten for several hours and the adrenaline during the whole treetops thing kept me from feeling any hunger until now.

Ah, the adrenaline. Ah, the treetops. We had harnesses attaching us to cables the entire winding, up-and-down way, and we were constantly unclipping and reclipping ourselves—very careful, because our lives depended on it—to the various cables everywhere.

Holy cow. Majour random displaced feeling. I just remembered a ‘dream’ I had recently, and by dream I mean alternate reality. Something happened and we had to go home halfway through the trip. It’s so disjointed and mismatched I can’t really explain it (although I’m wondering if it’s the same night as the one with Kell and the Chinese food), but I just remember images, feelings so clearly it feels certain it happened, and I know in the ‘dream world’ days, even weeks passed during that one night of 'sleep'.

Yikes.

And now, I’m waiting for room in the kitchen so I can feed myself.

ERG GET OUT!!!

Bleah. I hate the way Anne takes everything over.

Anyways, the Go Ape thing. It was about three hours long (3 exciting hours) and the two scariest bits were the first zipline (stepping out into open air that first time is a doozy... and you take that step, and bounce on air, moving slowly... and it’s not so bad.. until you speed up and flail and scream because you’re so completely out of control—or feel it), and the Tarzan jump, which was humoungus and terrifying and involved a few seconds of freefall before flying headlong into a rope net, which you then have to climb onto yet another tree-ledge, trusting your life to that harness the entire time.

Yeekazoids.

And the whole thing is designed in ways that don’t harm the trees or impede their growth or even dig into them. And there’s pro-ecological and pro-trees signs everywhere.

And all of this for 25 pounds. Frigging awesome.

Tomorrow is our last day already. And we’ve done nothing blessed nothing for the past couple of days. Tomorrow is Hadrian’s Wall, ancient artefact and such, but I don’t really want to go and I’ve chosen not to. I figure being crushed and stressed in the car all day for something I don’t especially want to see wouldn’t be a good use of my last day. I’d rather take the time to be alone maybe go for a walk, and enjoy the Lake District before we go.

I feel a bit guilty about not having done anything this past week but chill and be bitchy, but I think going tomorrow would just make me bitchier for the days to come.

Lah.

The Story of Buddy

Let me tell you the story of Buddy. Most children have either had a Buddy or known a friend with Buddy.

Buddy is friendly-looking doll, often with a welcoming smile and big (usually blue) eyes that gaze innocently forward and that attempt to hide the fact that Buddy is PURE EVIL.

You may have heard of a rather well-known cousin of Buddy, Chucky.

Now, nobody truly knows what it is that makes these dolls so evil. Perhaps some, like Chucky, are possessed. Perhaps some are the result of juju, perhaps they have been in the possession of a less-than-stellar-hearted child. But there are a few things that all of these dolls hold in common, whatever teh cause.

The first is the inability to get rid of them. Garage sales, hiding him in closets, throwing him away... somehow he always turns up, grinning as brilliantly as ever, and as sinfully as ever.
Second is the wicked aura. You can't quite place it, but there’s something wrong about him. Something that makes you shiver involuntarily, something that causes dishes to break, people to trip, the dog to bark.

Buddy happens to be Blair and Ross’ evil doll. From before they moved to Ontario he has terrorized them, evading all attempts to dispose of him and spreading his evil charm everywhere. From the time Ross and Blair can remember, he’s been there, and since roughly a week after 5-year old Ross received him as a well-intentioned gift, the two of them have feared him and have been trying to get rid of him.

Even when they most recently moved, he was left behind in the old house only to reappear (ever-smiling) in the spare room.

Blair was explaining Buddy to the Ladies over coffee. Anne was also there, listening with an indulgent smile on her face as Blair expounded the longstanding reign of terror the doll has had over her and her brother. And, as Blair turned to her for confirmation of her description, she exclaimed:

“I thought Ross loved that doll! I’ve been bringing him everywhere and I always make sure to put him on Ross’ bed for when he comes home. Whoops!”

-dies laughing-

Oh my God, no wonder he’s so terrorized every time.

Simple (albeit very longstanding) misunderstanding?

Or has the doll been subtly influencing? Controlling, even?

I’ll let you decide.

Oh, and if your Buddy happens to be a ginger, BURN HIM!!! BURNNNN HIMMMMM!!!!! Don’t even risk it!!!

Lah.

The Kava Kava Files, Continued.

Ah, joy. Yet another pub with the exact same selection of food that the last million pubs had. Whee. And it was the very first place at the very edge of the first town we hit, so it's not even GOOD pub food. And of course we're entirely ignored in favour of the two older Ladies. Which is okay, they deserve respect and such, but we're viewed by Anne (and yet not by them) as two silly little children with no say in anything.

Whee.

I really like Joan and Isobel. It's Anne who's pissing me off. She's just become more of everything with her mum around. Stab. Stabstabstabstabstabstabstab.

And she woke me out of a really good dream and a really good sleep by tickling my foot. Which I despise and is possibly one of the worst possible ways to wake ANYONE up. But even though all I wanted to do was kick her in the face, tell her to eff off and go back to sleep, I'm sure she wouldn't have given a crap about either of us being hungry when she got back from shopping and we woke up, so it was come or starve. And I was really hoping for the excellent Chinese food place that’s supposed to be only a mile up from the shitty pub we’re in.

Bah. I’m going home and locking myself up somewhere alone. Please take me with you, I’ll try not to be a nuisance.

The dream I was having was a typically messed up one for me (meaning alternate-reality type), but I was just cuddling Kell when I woke up. I had just gotten back (like three days ago) and hadn’t seen him yet. Michelle randomly dropped him off with three huge bags of Chinese Food (wow, eh? –drools-) and even though I was super happy to see him, there was something up. And we were in the living room with the whole family cuddled watching a movie or something, so I curled in next to him and we were just about to work out whatever the problem was when...

tickletickletickle GOOD MORNING!!!

Anne. Loud, annoying, snide Anne. She must have been a horrible know-it-all as a child and while younger, because she still is now under the guise of age. She can’t take anything that disagrees while her mum’s around she just listens to what you say and tells you ‘that’s nice; you’re wrong.’

I want to eat GOOD FOOD again. And that excludes the crap she cooks. STABSTABSTABSTAB

Pop pop puff puff whee!

Blair has lost her mind and is only barely holding onto the fringes of sanity. If she could, she’d be rolling in the grass giggling manically.

Lah.

Pink is Blair.

Family and Prettiness.

The Lake District. Nothing special and yet, pretty and peaceful. We ended up skipping Lindisfarne (the true home of the cannibalistic monks, not St Mike’s Mount) and came straight here from Rosslyn. We’re sharing the (nice large) cabin with Blair’s Granny and her friend, both of whom I like so far.

The drive was meh as expected, stressful as ever but okay due to my ever-present friend Kava Kava, music, and sleeping. Like I said though, it’s peaceful here, humid and warm. I don’t know if we have any specific purpose in being here: I almost hope not because I just want to chill and avoid people. I’m just so tired, body mind and soul.

We watched The Beach earlier: excellent, excellent, excellent. Leo diCaprio will never be my favourite person but he’ll always be an amazing actor. It was one of those rollercoaster movies, leading you around by your heart. He was CRAZY! Not a heartthrob, CRAZY!!

Luckily, after we turned it off, Life or Something Like It was on, which I haven't seen for years and was just as (or at least had somewhat as much, this late at night) emotion, but with the bonus of knowing there's a happy ending, which I needed. I really needed the happy feel-good shit to chill me out and send me to sleep with, especially since even knowing she lives it's intense.

You know, I'm really lucky to have the people around me in my family. Al the laughter and freedom and happiness, all those moments where we're ourselves and we accept each other. Even Kell and I, we have our problems but in the end we accept one and other complete with faults and I wouldn't trade it.

I think about how much I miss my family now and I think of how much I'll miss them when I'm gone to Van. I wanna make sure the little time in between is as awesome as it gets. And I keep forgetting to include Christian in the family because he tries to be quiet, but it's him too.

All of them... I love them.

Although right now, certain parts of me are informing me the miss a certain aspect of my relations with Kell most.

Heh.

Lah.

Pink is Blair.

The Fayre Rosslyn

Here I sit in Rosslyn. Outside the Chapel but on the grounds, in a tree. It’s very pretty but very busy, and the words on everyone’s lips are “Dan Brown” (with every accent and in every language imaginable), even years later. It’s peaceful here on the grounds; I like it. It gives my tired soul a rest. The chapel is on two intersecting ley lines, apparently... but then they often are.

The inside is absolutely chock-full of awesome carvings. I would never have made them out though if not for the handy pancartes explaining everything.

Goddess bless me and those around me, especially those whom I love and who love me. Grant them love, peace and harmony, strength when it’s needed and that which will give them the best life, and the best life for our relationships.

As I will, so mote it be.

I love you, all of you, and you too Goddess.

Blessed be.

Lah.

Blair Castle

Blair Castle is very Blair-like compared to all the other ruins and castles we’re seen. If I were allowed to take pictures, the thing I’d most want a picture of would be the bayonet tips formed into the shape of stars around the targes (round shields).

Luckily, Blair Castle took my mind off of the bad things that have been tearing me apart since this morning. Too bad it didn’t really put me in a better mood. It was much better than St Mike’s Mount, but there was no power there other than the power of history. Some rooms had bad vibes; one so yucky that I didn’t even go in. It was big, too, and you get to see most of the rooms. All the furniture, portraits, and tapestries are authentic and roped off for the actual safety of the pieces as opposed to foolishness.

Yay Blair Castle! Messa gonna get married there and you’ll come and take those pictures of the bayonet stars.

Lah.

Pink is Blair.

Taking Our Leave

*sigh* I love this. It’s so pretty here.

We’re on our way out of the Highlands and down South and East to Blair Castle and then to Edinburgh. I’m watching the mist and mountains and streams pass by the windows and all the pretty things while Anne gives up the history of the monarchy and parliament in England. It’s really interesting but if I tried to retain it all my head would probably expode. In fact, I’m surprised her head doesn’t explode from all the history contained in her skull.

Wow, surprisingly few rulers in England have actually been English, as opposed to Welsh, Danish, Scots, etc. Huh.

And we’ll be in Edinburgh for Saturday night! Pubs, clubs, bars! That don’t close at 11! Gods, it’ll be awesome. We’re only in Edinburgh for 2 nights, but hey. Better than Castleton, and still in Scotland! Although not in the highlands, unfortunately. Ah well, at least Blair Castle is, so we’ll have a little more time here.

I really love the Highlands, and the Gaellic language is so pretty, although too harsh for my tongue. Not even harsh, just odd. Ach aye bonny wee lass o’er thar with the heeland coos.

I prefer the ocean in Mullion to the ocean we’ve seen in Skye and Scotland. The staidness of the lochs and inlets and softly lapping waves doesn’t compare to the crashing in Cornwall. Then again, the cliffs don’t beat the misty crystal mountains and streams constantly falling down. Pity that it’s all mild (yay!) but never really hot.

But it’s all gorgeous!

Lah.

Pink is Blair.