Today is the last day of what was Brain Injury Awareness Month.

Kids, watch out for low hanging clotheslines. Seriously.

I'm optimistic with the recent updates, and from what I know about head injuries, things are going fairly well. I hope they find a way to get him to Halifax soon, so I can visit him.

Funny, how life finds ways to remind you who you care about. Ryan and I were never really that close. I hope that changes.

If you think I'm crazy these days, check out my multiple posts from two years ago...(There's still some good advice in them for people frustrated at trying to be my friend. I'm a fucking freak).

Ever notice how a simple, honest conversation can save a lot of grief and misunderstandings? Yet, it's not really that simple.

It's easier to talk about someone than to talk to them. It's easier to analyze and speculate than to actually ask. It's more fun to to play games than to come out with it.

Well, don't. Don't say anything.

I did what I could. I did what I would. From my point of view I tried. But now I don't know why.

And that was a long time ago.

Three years ago, I posted a fortune from a cookie.

Um. Hi. I'm going to go enjoy the day. And think about not thinking about cigarettes...

Apologies to you, the reader:

I don't generally feel like sitting at a computer, pouring out my incessant self-pity, searching for someone to seem to care, blah, blah, blah, when things are going well in life. I'm too busy being happy to sit here an whine about crap.

Three years ago, my engagement ring got bent when my hand was stepped on at the last Slitch show. I talked to Al a few days ago. Weird.

I've been thinking about Ryan so much. I don't know what I think I can do by thinking about him, but I'm trying.

Three years ago, I had some champagne at the Attic.

Who's been pe-amped? Pimp'd. I don't know how to spell how we say it at Crooked House.

Last year I posted something from my answering machine. (How do you say you're okay to an answering machine?)

Someday, we'll look back and laugh.

I don't know why I still check statcounter. To see if the handfuls of people keep coming back for my crap, I guess. But, whenever there's someone new, someone from some part of the world I'm not used to seeing regularly, they seem to arrive here after watching the video of me and the yarn dick. I wonder what it is they're searching for that finds them in Philip's archives from three years ago. From what I remember of that night so long ago now, I had a lot of fun. And there's embarrassing footage to prove it. I'm so glad I don't drink like that much anymore. Of course, I played with chemicals back then a bit too. I never did tell those guys how touched I was to be made an honourary man.


Two years ago, I was reading horoscopes for fun. I guess I thought the ones I posted hit on something.

I did it. I had to. It was $20 I didn't have. That's a serious problem of mine. When things get tough financially, I spend more. I'm trying to make myself feel better; trying to feel like I don't have to worry about money, I can just go out and by the Cheaters DVD. So what? Obviously, it makes things worse. But it's behaviour I learned a very long time ago. My mother would tell me that lettuce was too expensive to buy, so I couldn't have any for my school lunches, but she always had money to take us to a a salon and feel prettified, and she was nearly never out of cigarettes.

Cheaters is awesome. It'll never be as great as the first time I saw it, but it's still good for passing the time.

We first saw it in the hotel room in Boston last fall. It was after the show. We were a bit delirious as it is, and then we found that on TV. I can't explain why I find it so hilarious, but in many cases the people are so stupid. I mean, I feel bad for them, but it's funny. My favourite part is when all these strangers jump out of vans with TV cameras and surround the cheater. They ambush them with their partner in tow. And don't try to talk your way out of it. That just digs yourself in deeper. They have evidence. They've been following you for months.

I have the uncensored stuff, but honestly, I think all the bleeps made it funnier. I do, however, like hearing them swear and seeing their private parts.

I think we're going to have to have a Cheaters party sometime.

I've been real careful
Not to become one of those
Asshole
Werewolves

I haven't listened to this in awhile. I'll never forget those guys at Sneaky Dees screaming the lyrics to that song at Dog Day. It's like, "no, guys, we're a different band. I don't know that one." In Guelph this last time, one of them came up to me and said he was having flashbacks of that night. "Oh, that was the night I got so drunk, I broke my foot. Yeah, that was a fun night" I said. I'm not sure if I actually broke something in my foot or just hurt it really bad, but the pain lasted for months, and sometimes, it returns. There are many, many little bones in feet. I do think at least one of them cracked that night. I'll blame it on the cough syrup I drank too much of instead of the beer I drank too much of.


Three years ago, I had a quality meal.

My honesty got the better of me again yesterday when I told the CBC lady that I wasn't technically on Thank You. Oops. But, I hate lying about it. I don't mind that the band started as a recording project, and when they decided to start playing shows they recruited me to play parts KC and Seth had added at the end of the recording. "Yeah. I guess I don't mind admitting that. I'm a big phony." "Well, you were a big phony, but you've gone legit." "Yeah." It's true. Why would I want to take credit that I don't deserve? I mean, I love the sound at the end of Know Who You Are and that it came from a video game I played often in my youth, but does that mean I should take credit for picking it? I don't know. I guess. Oh well.

With these last few interviews, I find it interesting that people take me calling myself a whore so seriously. In fact, I find it funny that people take anything I say so seriously. Everything I say, ever, has a hint of truth and a hint of my weird sense of humour. It took me a bit to come to terms with being in a "pop" band. I keep hearing the words of Watt over and over in my head "she's going from punk to pop and she's catching on" and try to figure out if I think that's a good thing or not. But I love the band, I love the instrument, and I love the songs. I'm not changing myself drastically for any financial gain. So, I'm not selling out. I like the Beatles.

Also, did you see how short that skirt I wore at the last Hold show was? I'm getting too old for that. Sleazy.

PS- Happy belated birthday, Woofy. After talking about it all week, in typical Crystal fashion, I forgot on the actual day. Not entirely. But I didn't get you the gift I'd wanted to and I didn't call or visit.

My hair is at that point where I have to be very careful. One wrong urge, or moment of stress or boredom, and I'll chop it all off again. I've only had hair longer than my shoulders once since grade 5 because of this stage. It's too short to do much with, at least with my limited experience, but it's too long to hang down all the time. It just really irritates my ears and the back of my neck. I want to pull on it all the time. Writing about it is making me more conscious of that fact, and now it's bugging me intensely.

Years ago, I was talking to James Mitchell getting to know him a bit and just hanging out with his then girlfriend for one of the first times. She had long hair, and had her whole life. I got talking about being a tomboy as a child and he asked if that's why I always have short hair. I had never really thought of it before. The biggest reason I keep my hair short is that it's so hard for me to grow it. It's just annoying, physically. It's fine once it's longer, but it's so hard to wait. I started cutting my hair (or getting it cut, those days) as soon as I turned ten. My mother told me that my father wouldn't let me cut my hair until I was ten, because then I'd be old enough to make that kind of decision and deal with the consequences. She said that he wanted me to have beautiful, long, blond hair. After their divorce I asked him about that on the way to the hairdresser's to cut my recently shoulder-length hair even shorter. He got upset and said he never said that. That I could do whatever I wanted to my hair, it was my hair. He said I could even shave it if I wanted. He may not like it, but it's my choice. Years later, I would shave it, days before graduation to rebel against my mother who told me I could shave it for the summer as long as I waited until after the grad and prom photos.

Ha! I showed he when I went across the stage with hair only millimeters long and army boots to get that diploma! Tell me what to look like forever in my prom photos, will you?

The perpetual rebel. It's a real problem. Sometimes I do and/or say things I don't really want to, just because someone told me not to and how dare they tell me what to do?

KC saved me the other day from having a spider in my hair. It was coming down from the ceiling, and was mere inches from my hair when he caught it. The reason I'm a bit arachnophobic is from an incident, before I was allowed to cut my hair and it was down to my hips, involving hundreds of baby spiders. I was with a good friend of mine, and it was the end of summer or early fall; whatever the time of year when spiders mate. There were webs filled with little babies all over the outside of his house and many others in the neighbourhood. They had just recently hatched. I was fascinated and let my face get really close to the webs to see them as closely as possible. Then, my friend picked up a stick, ran it through the webs, and said look. Before I knew what was going on, I had so many of those little guys crawling all over my head. I screamed something at him and ran home, crying. When my parents saw me come through the door, yelling and sobbing, they asked what happened. I told them and ran, panicked, up to the shower. I showered three times, crying the whole time, but I thought I could feel them for days. Now, recounting the story, my head is itching. I still find spiders fascinating.

With friends like that, who needs enemies, eh?

Last year, I was well into isolating myself, but not necessarily enjoying it. I wonder what I wanted to do that night that had me cranky about "relaxation."

I really like this picture. It's my pal, Dave Brown, wearing a Hold shirt while he talks to HR. Awesome. I have more pictures. Someday, I'll have time.

Lou Barlow is one of the reasons I play bass

It's floating through the abyss
Under the brig my head swings down

Beware her wrath, the image gone
The shell is crumbling, fix my frown
This spell would be clear in non-tradition
And stepping on these pieces of pain and smirk
And rape goes through to sin my eyes
And shapes know where the heartache will lurk

Forget the swan, a stone swims near
A stone has come, if I could cheer
Forget the swan
Forget the swan

Drifting among this rubble
I guess the waiting, wished I would
I found a box, untethered and true
Possession it understood

Forget the swan, a stone swims near
A stone has come, if I could cheer
Forget the swan
Forget the swan

How I tried to warn my neighbor
But the corn was much too high
In confusion up and threw him, woke up every day
But its not too late brother, Ill still say you were mine

Forget the swan, a stone swims near
A stone has come, if I could cheer
Forget the swan
Forget the swan

Forget the swan, the dreams are gone
The pain goes on, they fly at dawn

Forget the swan
Forget the swan
Forget the swan
Forget the swan

Three years ago, I came home drunk and listened to Organized Rhyme. When I got up, I posted about something I'd read at work.

It's a good thing it's not that cold out. What's the good of a spring jacket that's not waterproof? What a yucky walk down here.

Three years ago I had Cyndi Lauper on the brain. Girls do just wanna have fun.

My bum hurts. It feels great. The bruise hasn't surfaced yet, and I hope it's a good one when it does. "I knew he was there. I let it happen because I wanted to feel the pain*." I was told to watch out for that guy. But it was nice to go flying into the step in front of the bar. I love watching guys mosh by themselves. I had a big grin on for so much of the night. I drank pretty fast too. Oh nostalgia. I really needed that.

The other day, the Chronicle Herald had the following headline on the front page: "Casey refuses to bend." I turned to my husband and said "why don't you just take it?" I pointed to the paper when he asked what I meant, and then proceeded to talk about how much I'd like to peg him. "You know I've always wanted a penis." He wasn't sure if he should take me seriously or not.

*J Mascis is God. To some, maybe.

Three years ago, I started the day by touching myself.

Ugh. I'm definitely going to have to scoop ice cream today. Oh joy.

Two years ago, I was feeling very dizzy. I still don't have new glasses. A couple of months ago, the eye doctor said I don't them.

Wow, I really am an addict aren't I? I alternate where I use the 'net the way an alcoholic goes to different liquor stores so that the staff don't know their true rate of consumption. I saw Nancy's new possession today. I can't until I get mine, which as of right now is undetermined. I don't even know if I can pay my power bill in time. But I'm still smoking. At least I know how to prioritize my finances. It will be mine. I just keep thinking positively and imagining myself with my new computer. Someday. Someday. I'm so sick of my big hunk of a desktop.

I spent more time in the sun yesterday than I have in a long time. I wasn't going to go downtown. When KC left for work he said "it looks like a nice downtown day." "Yeah, but I'm not going. I have to do laundry and clean the room. I've been saying I would for about three weeks now." But I say a lot of things. Like how I was going to quit the poison again this week, since I was off until Friday. But, I didn't even try. I suck those babies back more than ever.

Then, when I went downstairs, Emily told me my Vice was in. Well, I guess I'll have to go downtown and get it, and sit in the sun and read it. One time, when the same message was passed to me, someone asked what's wrong with reading it online? I like to flip through magazines. Sometimes, I don't even read anything, I just turn the pages and look at stuff to pass the time. Besides, I couldn't have sat on the bus at 7:30 in the morning with a bunch of office people and other early morning commuters looking over my shoulder and seeing two guys kissing in the shower if I read it online. "When you read from a computer screen, you have to lean in. I like to lean back. Therefore, I prefer a hard copy." Oh Gil.

Look at me once again procrastinating the chores. Soon. Someday.

I went to Q104 today. We did an interview for Route 104. Not sure when they're going to play it.

I joined Facebook. You know me. I couldn't hold out forever. Curiosity often gets the better of me. It was evident the end was near when I actually uttered the F-word on here a few days ago.

Lately, people have been stopping me on the street and asking if I was Laura Peek. Somehow, I have a hard time believing I look as sweet as her, even if I've been smiling more.

Three years ago, I dyed my hair.

I liked Made in the World's version of this song. I also like that my keyboard is the same one the original performers used. I'd recommend that people try not to read too much into me liking Joy Division, but people like too read into things (I do too. I'm people).

I read an article on Ian Curtis yesterday, so he's fresh in my mind. My associative thinking goes from Ian Curtis to epilepsy to my cousin to my childhood. I've been thinking too much about my childhood. Remembering things I'd repressed. But I digress.

When routine bites hard,
And ambitions are low,
And resentment rides high,
But emotions won't grow,
And we're changing our ways,
Taking different roads.

Then love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.

Why is the bedroom so cold?
You've turned away on your side.
Is my timing that flawed?
Our respect runs so dry.
Yet there's still this appeal
That we've kept through our lives.

But love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.

You cry out in your sleep,
All my failings exposed.
And there's a taste in my mouth,
As desperation takes hold.
Just that something so good
Just can't function no more.

But love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.


Last year was 6/6/6 and it didn't start well.

I wish I could've gone to the studio last night. No, that doesn't sound right. I could've. KC had invited me, but Darcy didn't, and it's his thing. Besides, I only wanted to go for selfish reasons. I can't fucking wait to hear the Vennt stuff. It's not like I'd've had and input into the mixing. I would've sat there and read. But, sitting there and reading would've been more productive than lying around on my bed listening to the rain, and watching TV doing puzzles. I was trying my hand at Kakuro puzzles. I find them more interesting and difficult than Sudoku. I've never been very good at crossword puzzles.

I feel guilty about what's going on with J. I feel like I'm cheating on Brenden and Michel. Months and months ago, I really led them on about jamming with them. But the thing is, I really wanted to. But the plan was for them to jam with me and KC as a package. He was the one who was too busy for us to bother trying to get something together. Well, okay. I could've put in more of an effort. I can't put all the blame on him. Now, we're doing stuff fairly regularly with J. But that was already on KC's plate. It has just been recently added to mind. And it's all in the same neighbourhood. It's easier to coordinate. Excuses, excuses. I like to justify things. Like all the little lies I tell myself to say it's okay to just have one more beer, or one more cigarette. I'll quit tomorrow. When things are easier. After I deal with NS Power. Yeah right. My nips are cool.

I got my tickets to the Evens show. I like how it's only a couple of weeks away.

I should listen to CKDU more often. For some reason, I tend to forget that I can. I have been listening to my CD collection as I spend time pretending to try to organize my room. I haven't bought many CDs over the last few years, so I'm listening to stuff I liked between grade 10 and about the age of 22. It's nostalgic.

I found this in my drafts. It's been ages since I've done one:

40 Things You'd Never Think to Ask...

1. Have you ever been searched by the cops?
No. They looked in a friend's backpack once for pot.

2. Do you close your eyes on roller coasters?
Usually no, but I'm sure I have.

3. When's the last time you've been sledding?
I really don't remember. Maybe the toboozin' incident when I almost really hurt myself. That was about 9 years ago.

4. Would you rather sleep with someone else, or alone?
I like to cuddle. I wrap my arms around a spare pillow on the rare occasions when I sleep alone.

5. Do you believe in ghosts?
I have.

6. Do you consider yourself creative?
No. People tell me I'm more creative than I give myself credit for.

7. Do you think O.J. killed his wife?
I 'unno

8. Jennifer Aniston or Angelina Jolie?
Angelina

9. Can you honestly say you know ANYTHING about politics?
Maybe a bit.

10. Do you know how to play poker?
Sorta. I had some good beginner's luck the few times I've played.

11. Have you ever been awake for 48 hours straight?
I think 30 something is the farthest I've made it.

12. What's your favorite commercial?
Right now, I like the Wendy's commercial where everyone's kicking trees. "Because I have a mouth and it wants one."

13. Who was your first love?
Depends on how love is defined. I'll say Adrian.

14. [this was deleted before my ctrl+v]

15. Do you have a secret that no one knows but you?
You know, I don't think so. Well, I suppose.

16. Boston Red Sox or New York Yankees?
I don't care.

17. Have you ever been Ice Skating?
Yeah. I used to love it. I got a pair of skates for Christmas 12 years ago and have only used them once.

18. How often do you remember your dreams?
Not as much as I used to.

19. When was the last time you laughed so hard you cried?
I almost got there last week during an uncomfortable moment at a bar.

20. Can you name 5 songs by The Beatles?
of course.

21. What's the one thing on your mind?
The one thing? Uh, student loans is one of many.

22. Do you believe in love at first sight?
I have.

23. Do you know who Ba-Ba-Booey is?
no.

24. Do you always wear your seat belt?
Yeah.

26. Do you like Sushi?
I love sushi.

27. Have you ever narrowly avoided a fatal accident?
This one time, The crazy guy, a friend of a friend, who was driving turned right into a line of traffic because he almost missed a turnoff or something. A few seconds difference and things would've been very bad.

28. What do you wear to bed?
Usually, the t-shirt I'm already wearing. Or, if I'm not wearing a t-shirt, I take out my pub-crawl shirt and throw that on.

30. Does size matter?
sometimes

31. Do you truly hate anyone?
No. I have been close before, but no. Hate sucks.

32. Rock or Rap?
rock.

33. If you could sleep with one famous person, who would it be?
Angelina

34. Do you know anyone in jail?
I know someone who just got off house arrest, and the guy who did my first tattoo went to jail soon after doing it.

35. Have you ever sang in front of the mirror?
yes.

37. What food do you find disgusting?
mushrooms. I can't wrap my head around the idea of eating fungus. Except for when I ate the kind that made me high.

38. Did you ever play, I'll show you mine if you show me yours?
When I was kid, we did a bunch of stuff like that. My favourite was the game where we would all crawl around in a closet and when the person outside opened the door, we had to freeze. I usually tried to hide away from the other people, or climb on the shelf. My best friend, Brian, was often found up my step-sister's skirt.

39. Have you ever made fun of your friends behind their back?
I've done some horrible things. I've also done some things that were all in good fun.

40. Have you ever stood up for someone you hardly knew?
yes.

Three years ago, I made a list of "crazy" people. I realize I'd be on some lists if other people made them.

I can't believe I'm pretty much from HRM and today was my first time at the Dingle. That was such a nice picnic, even with the hangover. It was great to go on a picnic. Do something different and get out of the house. I liked the barbecue idea, but I've been to more of those in my life. The last picnic I went on was about 8 years ago, and KC and I trudged from Northwood Terrace to the Commons with a blanket. We didn't even sit on the blanket like you are expected to on a picnic, we sat on the bleachers (maybe the grass was too wet) and split a banana. Now that I think about it, I think we had some peanut butter sandwiches too.

Today, there were three blankets. We found a place far enough away from the water that it wasn't too cold. It was actually pretty warm in the sun. All the food was good, but I have to mention the dessert. I wish I felt like eating sweets more than I did, but I had a little taste. Snickers bars, green apples, and whipped cream. It's definitely better than it might sound.

I'm really enjoying the drinking book I'm reading. I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that I relate to so much of what she's saying, being that it's an autobiography of a woman alcoholic. But still, except for the fact that specific life events are quite different than mine, it could, in ways, be my biography. So many things about self-worth and identity, and drinking too much and for the wrong reasons.

I need another break. I should also probably talk to a doctor or pharmacist about just how quickly I'm killing myself. Or, I could just stop. I don't even know if the falsies are "safe" for me to consume.

Assumptions are often wrong. I thought that was common knowledge.

Plans keep falling through.

I probably shouldn't wait until after my shift to write. I'm too blah and want to leave.

"How come you're wearing the cutest outfit in the world today?"

"I don't know, I guess I got tired of being a slob."

It's funny that that's what I responded with. So not quick on my feet. I'm a total slob. I couldn't sleep last night, so I didn't get up as early as I'd wanted to. Just as I was about to get a shower, someone was in there. So, I had another coffee and another cigarette. When they were done, I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and threw on a hat. I've been all "Star Wars" at work these last two days. Yesterday, I wore my Wicket shirt that I was super excited to buy at a Value Village somewhere in Ontario. But not a single person mentioned it! Ok, one guy did, but he said "who's Wicket?" I told him he was an Ewok, and he asked what an Ewok was. "Uh, from Star Wars..." Disappointing. Today I'm wearing the hat, the one that was a staple of mine for a while.

Well, it's nice out and I seriously need to figure out what I want to eat.

Piggy, come hard-kiss Kayy See.

Two years ago, I wrote a note to Mark Black. And then another one.

I feel like I've come back home. I'm so excited to be back here. I know I lost my mind and got really hateful and quit the job last year, but it wasn't the job's fault. All the names of cigarettes are changing to get rid of words like "light" and "mild." What I find really funny is that Export A mild has become or will become Export A rich. The words "rich" and "mild" have completely different meanings. When I think of a rich cheesecake, I don't think of something mild tasting. I didn't bring a jacket today, and that means it's cloudy, struggling to rain, and kind of cold. It always happens to me that way. If I'd brought my jacket, it would be super hot all day and I'd be stuck carrying it around like a fool. Have you ever heard of the astral plane? It's funny to think about all the crazy stuff I used to believe in when I was young and passionate and interested in things. Like the astrology stuff I was reading at Rob and Paula's. I used to believe a bunch of crazy New Age stuff. I made an attempt at Wicca. Then, I decided to not believe in anything. Which also means that I'm not an atheist. Because that would be believing in something. I can see how some things might be possible, even it they may not be plausible. I even had a stint of being a Christian. Crazy stuff. It's June now. I guess that means my high school reunion will be coming up. I used to fantasize at being in a really great place in life, and have a bunch of things to brag about, to "go back and show them" when my reunion came around. Yeah, one of those winners who can't get over the shitheads. But, now I don't want to. And I graduated from a different school that the one in the town I'd spend 10 important years of my life. Why do I care about reuniting with a bunch of strangers that I only knew for 1.5 years? Oh, it doesn't matter. I'm not on Facebook, so I'll never get the details of the event.