my self-respect means more to me than you do (or at least it used to)

i remember the beer caught in my throat
and the lonely comfort of my only winter coat
i could tell you exactly when i fell
it was back when i did not know you so well

– pony up

i have felt stuck for 6 months; trapped in what i thought could potentially be a healthy, fruitful relationship. i stood my ground mostly, i foolishly gave in occasionally, and i ignored my gut from the start. and finally, finally, i’ve let go. luc has the potential to be a good person- i know it because i’ve seen it. but he also has the ability to be a negative, mean, and rude person to me, and i’ve witnessed it more than i would have liked to. i stuck around with the hopes of positive change, maturity development, and paved paths for something i thought could be great. but i was sorrily mistaken, and i was obviously let down.

and what kind of person am i- to have strung him along during my indecisiveness? granted he knew where i stood on the matter- that’s not the point. i’ve made a decision for him, for myself, for our friends (who have been waiting as patiently as he has), for our family (who all had faith this would pan out into something greater)… i’m letting go for everyone’s sake. for my sanity. for my peace of mind. for my freedom.

i’ve always been a boyfriend type of girl. i spent my years in junior high kissing older boys at arenas, holding hands under desks, writing love letters, or having “boyfriends” over when i wasn’t allowed. i stumbled into high school and instantly fell into a life of drugs, sex and alcohol. i remember stealing cars with biz, or drinking 40s of beer in a friend’s living room in the projects. we’d do graffiti at the skate park, drink vodka in alleyways, sleep in the parks. it wasn’t glamourous, but i had the time of my life. i met m when i’d calmed down from that stuff- and it seemed the sight of him made those feelings of danger and apathy resurface almost instantly. being with m made me feel so fucking alive. in the beginning, we’d party all night, and lay in bed together all day. it was the perfect mix of teenage rebellion & young love. i had it all.

and when i wasn’t with m, i toyed around with older boys, had flings in different cities, and genuinely couldn’t find it in me to give a shit about anyone who wasn’t m. until andy- and with andy came a mixed feeling of relief and resentment. i missed the danger, and i missed the feeling of not knowing what came next. and by the same token, i couldn’t be happier to wake up to the same person everyday- to someone who lived to make me happy. i had never been in a better, more stable place in my life.

i’ve gotten over the lifestyle i had before and during my relationship with m. living that lifestyle now is only rebelling against myself- i’ve lived a life with andy that opened my eyes to what i want in the future. and since leaving him and our beautiful home, couch hopping and drinking myself into oblivion and fucking B. so i could feel something- anything… i’ve finally figured out what i wanted.

maybe i stuck around for luc and i’s bullshit rollercoaster of misunderstood emotions because i was lost. i saw something in him i thought i wanted, and i was stupid enough to let it lead both of our lives. i should have known to trust my gut from the get-go; to not give into feelings i know are superficial.

he’s an idiot if he thinks for a minute i never cared. i spent every waking moment talking to him, about him, or spending time with him. i was hoping so badly that i could have a change of heart, accept him for who he is, and just be with him. and although his heart of gold helped me realize how selfless he can be- it also made me see a side of him i wish i’d never gotten to know at all.

i can’t count the amount of times he told me we were ruining each others’ lives. it may have been a joke at the time, but deep down i think both of us knew it was true. i’ve been holding back when i meet new people- refusing to let my emotions with them get the best of me because of the man at home who was waiting for me, so patiently. maybe down the road i’ll kick myself for letting go the one person who stuck around through everything in hopes i’d give in. maybe i’ll kick myself for giving up a chance at building a family, again. another chance i had at letting someone in and seeing the real me- the me that has feelings and enjoys kissing and waking up next to someone- sharing my life with someone.

maybe…

but i’ve been sticking to “maybe” since i was a kid, and i’m sick of basing my life on what if’s… the last time i used schrödinger’s thought experiment as a means to making my decision, i got horribly burned- needless to say, the cat was very much dead, and i’ve never been good at quantum mechanics anyway.

my point is this: i’m moving on for me. i can’t keep tip-toe-ing around people’s feelings trying to save them, when all i need now is to save myself. i need to be alone (for once), and let the chips fall where they may. i’m not looking anymore… the best things will happen when i least expect them to.

that being said, friday will be my last day working for the company i’ve been with for 3 years. they offered me a position i couldn’t possibly take, and thus have no choice but to leave (with a heavy heart). i’m trying to stay positive though- working here has taught me responsibility and proper business etiquette. i’ve been fortunate enough to have participated in out-of-town business conferences in which i got the opportunity to step outside of myself and interact with other business associates from across the country. i met the president of the company, and have built a a fabulous working relationship with the VP of sales (who wants to reference me to other businesses looking for a young firecracker like me). i worked with some pretty energetic and positive people, and i was lucky enough to be part of the most amazing sales team, and built a special relationship with each of the representatives. i’m sad to leave, but this is such a good opportunity to look for something else and thrive. i can use these tools to be a better me, and build a more stable future.

i never thought i’d go from being the young naive little girl i was, to the strong, outgoing, business woman i’ve become. it stings sometimes, to catch my glance in the mirror and see that i’ve totally given into the man- that i’ve bitten the bullet and become a slave to my bitch- but that’s life, right? that’s growing up.

i crashed and burned into 2010 like a rocket on fire spiralling to the core- and i was so scared i wouldn’t make it out alive. i’m a victim of my own demons and i get lost sometimes, but i’m working on that. in january 2010 i was boyfriendless, virtually homeless, and teetering close to unemployment (because of my drinking habits), but i pulled through. with the help of friends and family, i made it out of this again, and only good things can come from this wreckage.

i need to take all of this and start fresh- learn everything again with a new, open heart.

i’m a single, independent woman looking for new beginnings- in relationships, employment, and life in general.

bring it on, motherfucker.

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there are power lines in our blood lines

i’ve been drowning in wedding stuff- and i couldn’t be happier.

you know… usually regular-elle would totally be throwing hissy fits because waaah, waaah, my life is shit and everyone’s happy and successful but me! waaaah! i’m selfish, etc. but for reals, internet? i couldn’t be happier to announce that my brother and his fiancée are getting married this august. jo will officially become my sister-in-law, and cory will be the first kid in the family to be starting his own little family.

growing up, cory and i were always close. we had a lot of similar friends, or were always able to hangout with each others’ friends because we were only three years apart. i mostly grew up surrounded by boys, and all of my brother’s friends took me under their wing and treated me as their little sister. my brother’s best man, dom, is considered a third sibling, and i love him with all my heart. i love seeing their wedding party, and knowing that these people have known me since i was just a little kid. they saw me get in trouble, and succeed, and they were around to see me cry and hug me when boys broke my thirteen-year-old heart. my brother (and all his close friends) have always been protective of me. cory used to wake me in the middle of the night, step on the bottom bunk, reach up and tap my shoulder: “hey! let’s go talk!”, he’d say. we’d sit in the basement watching cartoons- pouring our hearts out. i never really opened up much as a kid… but cory used to drag me out of bed and force my secrets out. no matter how silly or important, he had my back. that’s what i love so much about him, you know? he may not be able to fully wrap his mind around the things i tell him, but he respects them, and he loves me regardless. he used to stick up for me to our parents and tell them i had a lot going on. “she’ll be fine”, he’d say. and he always made sure i was.

it’s been harder these days. cory’s worked very hard to be the successful man he is today. he had a few humps along the way, but he’s stronger than me in that sense. he never got sucked into a lifestyle that didn’t promise for a bright future. he slacked off as a kid, but christ… he was a kid! he smartened up, went to school… he’s done so many amazing things for himself, and i couldn’t be more proud. he worked hard to be in this amazing spot in his life. cory and jo have been travelling- together and alone. they’ve been planning out their future. they just moved into a beautiful old home in a trendy spot of the city. they have barbecues and they go on dates, and they’re so in love. and that’s all i could have ever asked for. for a woman to love my brother as much as he deserves to be loved. someone who awakens his mind and pushes him to be everything he is, everything he can be. jo has been such a positive person in all of our lives, and i knew the very second i met her that she’d be my sister-in-law. i knew that if she could handle family dinner, the holidays with the french side of the family, my mother’s insecurities, my father’s wacky sense of humour, my brother’s hard-head, and my sarcasm and heavy heart- then she had to be the girl for my brother… for our family.

i’m not going to lie… sometimes being around them is hard. there are many decisions i’ve made in my life that have staggered my emotional growth, or my personal advancement. i’ve been held back so much over the last few years, and a big part of it is my fault. yes, i could have done so much differently, and had i just listened to my family (and friends) i could have saved myself years of agony. but i don’t think it’s too late. on my darkest days, i ache for an easy way out. i miss the care-free lifestyle of house shows, malt liquor, parties, and unemployment. but the truth is, (and as easy as it is for me to return there), that isn’t who i am.

i remember being fifteen and watching one of my closest friends pop some ecstasy and then smoke crack from a beer can. and while slutty girls in zebra print skirts and mohawks were hanging off him like he was the fucking man, i just remember thinking: what the fuck am i doing here? i sat in the back of the basement, listening to the sex pistols and the libertines, drinking my beer, and hoping to god the friends i grew up with that had just snorted a few lines of k weren’t going to overdose. one of them passed out on the floor, drooling and mumbling. that circle of friends tried to keep some sense of normalcy… by going to see movies at the theatres or having barbecues and beach days. granted those days were fun, and yes we did do some productive things and i experienced a hell of a lot. and i as much as i cared about some of those people, i just remember thinking that this wasn’t going to be my life forever.

i still see some of those people, and yes they’ve grown out of that phase. none of them do drugs anymore, and some of them have houses and cars, and jobs even. they look the same, and deep down, i know a part of them misses pouring beer on each other and screaming the lyrics of their favourite bands at shows, but we’ve grown up. most of them, anyway. the lucky ones, i like to think.

andy brought out such a wholesome person in me. he was the first person in a long time who could really make me feel again, and i’ll always appreciate him for that. i remember spending nights in bed together- telling silly jokes, laughing, having sex, and just being together. i think that’s important… i haven’t been in many relationships because i find it so hard to just be with someone. the first week andy and i started dating, he asked me to go over one night after work. he’d rushed home to cook me a gourmet meal- stuffed mushrooms, rice, squash… we ate dinner at the dining room table with candles and for the first time since i was sixteen, i was NERVOUS. i remember feeling my heart pound against my chest as i took small bites (wondering if i was chewing loudly), and kissing between sentences (wondering what he was thinking of). once the meal was finished he gave me some pj pants and we watched texas chainsaw massacre (i know, romantic). our legs were entwined and we must have had sex about four times… and i miss that, you know? i miss not being able to keep my hands off someone. i miss the feeling of having someone care about you enough to go out of their way because they want to, not because they feel they have to. i miss the effortlessness of andy and i’s relationship before we jumped the gun. andy and i weren’t meant to be together for many reasons, and i’m okay with that. i’m just glad i got the opportunity to feel again. to be good again.

and that’s all i can hope for, for myself. i look back on those four or five months i spent with B, dancing and fucking and not giving a shit about each other. and yeah, it was fun to forget for a few months, but that’s really not who i want to be. i don’t want to be some idiot’s dumb girl. i don’t want to sit in his filthy apartment, pretending i give a shit about someone i don’t, and pushing away all the thoughts of the things i want in life. granted, the kung fu movies were good, and the breakfast in bed was better than i’d expected, but fuck it.

i know what i want, what i always wanted. i knew what i wanted even when i was screwing my best friend, or smoking pot in alleyways. i may not have a traditional past and i may not look like your traditional suburban housewife, but that’s what i am at heart. and dammit, my feminist friends totally want to punch me in the teeth right now but i don’t care.

i want the quirky house in the old neighbourhood, and a garage, and a barbecue, and high-efficiency front loading washer & dryer. i want to cook all the meals, scrub the tub, and have a vegetable garden. i want to drive a fucking honda fit. i want to have a wedding, and baby showers and perfect little babies with off-beat names. i want to drive the kids to soccer practice and build lego castles and play house and i wanna take the kids to family dinner at gramma and grampy’s house.

i want what cory and jo have worked so hard on building together- a promising future and a happy, fulfilled life. so what if that makes me a cliché?

i want to be good again.

cowardice: a definition

the text i received at 10:30pm tonight:

“i have bad news… we can’t sex anymore… me and the ex are going for round three”

yes…
1. a text message
2. from a 25 year old
3. telling me he no longer wants to “sex it”
4. so he can work on his broken relationship for the THIRD time

i’m not even mad about not sleeping with him anymore (in fact, i’m kind of relieved!)… i’m just reading points 1 through 4 trying to wrap my mind around the crappiness of shitty humans, and why i am attracted to them like fucking magnets.

the weekend!

this weekend, i went to montreal with bizKoti, khala, zoe, B., and tristan…

friday night we hung around with khala while she got tattooed- we got to play with two cute dogs, and drink wine. there was a bit of a plan mix up which left B., tristan and i stuck in the cold for an hour or two… so we stood on the side walk, listened to limp bizkit (ha! i’m twelve!), and drank beer. the beautiful thing about montreal is being able to get absolutely shitfaced on a sidewalk. eventually bizKoti and hans showed up and we headed back to hans’ to drink more and go to blackjack’s. we made it by 3am at last call and bought 3 pitchers before heading back home.

on saturday we walked around for hours, bought B. some pants, lost the car, watched an entire season of 30rock, ate thai food, got drunk, went back to blackjack’s, met up with a bunch of friends, don’t remember the walk home, accidentally ordered a chicken poutine while trying to order A CHICKEN and A POUTINE at 4 in the morning, watched TMNT, and passed out.

on sunday morning we drove around aimlessly and found NOWHERE to eat. the car broke down twice, we ordered a litre o’milkshake and a litre o’cola.

the trip was a bit of a fail because i didn’t get my andrew wk tattoo (i need to go back in april), we wasted HOURS driving in circles, and we didn’t make it out to anywhere but blackjacks at 3am BOTH nights. but it was a fun trip none the less.

when i got home, i showered and went over to B.’s… we watched a bunch of movies and passed out. i didn’t sleep because i was up coughing all night, and then i counted the minutes til i had to get up and walk home to shower for work. B. has mondays off, so he gets to sleep in today. when my alarm went off, he rolled over and put his hand on my back while i was getting dressed. he does little things that totally make me swoon.

sigh.

anyway, daylight savings time can totally eat the dicks.

prescription medication can die in a fire (alternatively titled: the one with too much information)

remember that time i left work early to go to the clinic, and the doctor totally told me to stop having sex 10 times a day because i’m tiny and can’t handle it, and then i accidentally made my pharmacist think i’m an alcoholic sex fiend, and then definitely walked to B.’s house and high-fived him for breaking my vagina, because he totally broke my vagina?

oh, that was yesterday.

fuck my life.

on the plus side, we watched kung fu movies and ate fuzzy peaches in bed.
such an a+ dude!

earlier in the evening i ordered 100lbs of chocolate frozen yogurt with oreos and went to see the crazies with bizKoti and khala, and let me just say OHMYFUCK it’s so good! i haven’t seen the original, and i mean, it’s a little cheesy and made me think of the plot of cabin fever (also a good one!), but it’s awesome none the less. we all held hands and screamed.

the night before, i went to see shutter island which was ALSO super good! i thought it was a little slow here and there, but the ending made everything worth it, PLUS boston leonardo dicaprio makes me want to do bad things. nom nom nom!

anyway, tonight is movie night in my bed with khala and bizKoti and we’re going to do a bunch of laundry and eat until we crap ourselves.

tomorrow i have a half day and we’re heading to montreal to see some ottawa bands and get shitty with our besties. saturday khala has to buy fabric for work, and then we’re heading home. i have plans to party with bizKoti that night, and see B.

so other than the state of my cooch, everything is totally awesome!

—-

edit:

i just emailed my boss and the word “ejaculation” was involved. why am i so good at professionalism? how do i have a job?

help.

there’s blood in my mouth ’cause i’ve been biting my tongue all week

B. and i are not dating.

we do date-type things, i suppose. we drink a lot of liquor, we go out together with friends, we  go dancing, we’ve been out for breakfast once, we have sleepovers just about every night, he’s even made me breakfast in bed.

we send each other silly texts throughout the day, here and there… he let’s me know what he’s having for lunch, he tells me about his work out, or how he’s about to bbq a whole bunch of meat. it’s nice to know that throughout the 9-10 hours i spend in the office, just about every single time my phone vibrates, i know it’s going to be B.

almost every single night on my way home from work, i receive this text:
“movies? back rubs? sex? sleepover?”

i go home, shower, change, and walk the few blocks to B.’s house. he always answers the door with “ugh! as if you still knock! that’s silly!”. i wave to his roommates, and we walk down the hall to his bedroom. we both immediately take off our pants, he puts on a movie, and then we hop into bed. he normally hops ontop of me, runs his hands through my hair, kisses me on the mouth, and then repeatedly gives me tons of little kisses all over my face- “how was your day?”, he asks, as he lays his head on my chest.

like clock-work.

the thing is this: i never expected anything to happen with B…

i saw him dancing at the bar one night- wearing a cowboy shirt, with his hair slicked back into a pompador. he kissed me that night, asked me for my number, and sent me a message telling me i was cute. not even a week later we were having sleepovers every night.

it’s not like i look for these things to happen, and in all honesty i normally give them up after a few days or weeks out of sheer boredom. but the difference here is, i actually care about B.

yep… i said it!

somewhere in the depths of my ass-hole heart, there’s a tiny little spot for B.

a spot for his cowboy shirts and baseball jerseys. for his hilariously ridiculous tattoos and elvis paraphernalia. his obsession with dinosaurs and hillbilly music. his silly haircuts and absolute need to look ridiculous. and i mean, he can’t even watch zombieland without cringing because it’s “too scary” and he’ll “get nightmares” – how fucking cute is that?

he works as cook for a vegan restaurant… and he wears COSTUMES to work. one morning he threw on black sweat pants, skate shoes, and a t-shirt. the following day he put on black skinny jeans, a brown dress shirt & tie, with work boots. this morning, he threw on blue jeans, a baseball jersey (immediately changed it for a DIFFERENT baseball jersey), and white shoes.

he has wardrobe A.D.D., and watching him dress himself is one of my favourite parts of the day. this GROWN MAN, who acts like the funniest kid i’ve ever met, has me totally smitten.

he sends me text messages with quotes from forgetting sarah marshall, he actually giggles when i kiss his neck, he holds my hand when the roads are too slippery, he actually laughs out loud when i make jokes about meryl streep.

i mean REALLY, universe? ACTUALLY? am i being punked? WHERE’S ASHTON?!