i have lost the flair for writing in this journal. I am spending my time reading, sleeping and watching tv. I am also in the process of creating something based on my past, but I don’t feel the need to reveal its skeleton to you... because, really, you don’t need to know. What do you need to know, you ask?

“i am a scientist / i seek to understand me / i am uncurable and nothing else behaves like me”

i watch the gap commercials with juliette lewis, and i am brainwashed. i want gap. and i want gap now. give me all the nice-fitting clothes you can grab from the paws of hong kong sweat shops at full price, when in just a month i will only have to pay a third of the price.

“one more time / we’re gonna celebrate, all right..."

does anyone know of a nice little room in a house, completely detached from landlord or roommate contact? does anyone know of such a place that will cost less than $300 a month? can you promise that you won’t have people complain about how you wash your clothes or how you cook your food? can you promise that the roommates won’t complain to me about why i spilled nachos in the freezer and then go mess up every other bloody room in the household for me to clean every time i come home (which is only twice a week)? why are cleaning duties never “fair” when you have roommates?

“sure is nice to see you / you look good these days / talking’s not so easy / i wish i had more to say.... and you turn away / and i wonder, was it something i said? what can i do to make this change?”

i like my jobs; i have total control and the stress level is non-existent. the only drawback is that this is one of the first times in my life where the whole “friends at work” idea does not exist. thus, for the first time in my life, i am void of a work bond where you can bitch the day away. i think about this and am overcome with a fleeting sense of melancholy but then i think about 95% of the people who i’ve befriended and lost complete touch with after i made that final step out of each institution. because after it’s all done and over, how many of them ever become real soul mates anyway? you can’t continue relationships based on bitch sessions about deadlines and inadequate managers for years after the fact. i don’t even think lap dancers keep in touch with each other after they finish a contract at a strip joint. and THEY see each other naked.

“all the umbrellas in london couldn’t stop this rain / and all the dope in new york couldn’t kill this pain / and all the money in tokyo couldn’t make me stay / all the umbrellas in the london couldn’t stop this rain...”

harbourfront has been trying to get in touch with me for the last two weeks, and finally scored tonight. my left ear was the involuntary victim to five minutes of stilted reading of promotional blabber, and how “my family and I” would enjoy such benefits as the children’s milk festival and the 10% discount on the harbourfront crafts store. needless to say, “my family and I” declined with consideration. I hate hanging up on telemarketers. i think about these poor souls, and how they’re just trying to make an extra $10/hour to feed their family. it’s bad enough that they have to be a telemarketer; they don’t need one extra person telling them to fuck off. unless they deserve to be fucked off.

“and it’s so hard to do / and so easy to say / sometimes, sometimes you just have to walk away...”

the lady downstairs is smitten with me. i have a tendency to get untrusting glances from strangers, as with this lovely lady. but it took a few months and she loves me; each time we meet, she claims that my ‘boyfriend’, her pet cat poncho, misses me dearly and can’t wait for me to assume my haphazard shared-catsitting duties next week. she gave us maple syrup and feline-shaped pot holders for taking care of her cats last time. i shudder to think at what our next gifts will be. i’m hoping it’s one of those zip up sweaters from the 80s with animals stitched across the body. i wait with bated breath.

“now our love has died / this is why i cry.”

i am listening to nine inch nails’ “dead souls” and can’t help but envisage trent, that beautiful dark haired beauty, curling his lips with every word. good god, that man is lovely. i would shag him any day.

“i just decided i don’t trust you anymore”

name: Connie

birthday: september 22, 1976

music: magnetic fields, the wedding present, tom waits, blur, hayden, belle & sebastian, sigur ros, bjork

books: the fountainhead. sophie’s world. still life with woodpecker. secrets of the ya-ya sisterhood. god of small things.

movies: dead poets society, stand by me, magnolia, american movie, happiness, dancer in the dark, so i married an axe murderer, this is spinal tap, life is beautiful

magazines: colors (pre-new design), national geographic, new yorker without the excessive ads

clothes: old new kids on the block t-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms

style: oh yeah.

“and you may tell yourself ‘this is not my beautiful house!’ / and you may tell yourself ‘this is not my beautiful wife!’”

i wish i were smart. or rather, smartER. i realize that i’m not exactly stupid (facing people every day has proven this quite easily), but i don’t have the capacity to think like a lot of people do. i wish my thoughts were clear. i wish you would all understand what i’m trying to say. i don’t. if it sounds like i’m ignoring you, i’m not. i just have nothing to say. i’m nervous about what you may think.

goddamn. why am i so emotionally sensitive?

“i was never cool in school / i’m sure you don’t remember me / and now it’s been ten years, i’m still wondering who to be / i love to mix in circles, cliques and social coteries / that’s me...”

so long.

farewell.

auf wiedersehn.

goodbye.

i’ll see you on the flipside.

"will you miss me when i burn?"