Every day, just like the last.

Uganda.

I watched a documentary recently called War Dance. It is about children in Northern Uganda who attend a refugee camp school and are selected to participate in the National music and dance competition. All these children. Children of war. Many orphans. All scarred beyond my imagination. And that is why, I think, I can be concerned with such petty shit. I have no idea. I have never been forced to kill anyone, or identify my parents by their severed heads, in a pot of many severed heads being lifted out one by one.
I don't want to complain about my life. anymore. I don't want to live the way I have been living, with comfortable excuses and always something to fall back on...a plush life of perceived entitlement. Of course, I will. Becuase I don't live in Uganda, I don't live in a war zone. And although I've been through some tough times mentally, emotionally, they are laughable and pitiful in the face of these children's troubles.
This film put life into great perspective for me and I'm thankful for that.
We do not have war here...we also do not have dancing. Community dancing and singing. Not as a lesson, or a goal for improvement, or a cultural experience. We do not come together as a people and dance and sing. Two such basic, natural past times.
I think we're missing a lot of that. And in a way are at war with ourselves and the walls we build and the limitations we set. Silent war at each other for not being able to accept one another whole heartedly.
I dunno.
Peace.

Silas

I met Silas when I worked in the mountains in Switzerland. It was a time of many faces. Most saying goodbye as quickly as hello as their travels took them to the next must see European destination.
Silas was Swiss. His brother had hooked up with my friend Trilby. Silas was very young, his brother even younger, a teenager to Trilby's mid 20's, but nothing was too young for her, so the brothers became part of the gang for awhile. They were like a singing duo, very accomplished at guitar for their young age. I never knew either of them well. I was very focused at that time on snowboarding every.single.free.minute I had to myself. I was not interested in little boyfriends hanging around and going to the pub. My nights were trying to find a ride home down from the mountains...and going to sleep to get up in time for the first lift.
In the summer however...there is no snow. At least not where I could afford to get to. So you take up other activities that are free and plentiful. Hiking.
Hiking the Alps was something we did quite a bit. When Silas was hanging around we decided one day to head out for a particularly big trek. Steep. Not for the vertically challenged. There were seven of us, all but Silas very accustomed by now, to the passes of crumbly rock and blazing sun. The feeling of all around you nothing that was desirable to break a fall. No soft landing.
We walked and as we did the path, that had been eroded by winter ice and wind- became narrow. Narrow and was shrinking still as we went, ten feet apart so as to distribute our weight. My body was agile by a winter of snowboarding heel to toe, heel to toe. Placement of steps were cautiously executed and quickly became difficult. Talk hinted at turning back then, and as we all breathed a collective sigh of relief Silas fell. Fell off the path and down...far down. We could see a discheveled figure about a hundred feet down. We could not see his face, his eyes, we could not see blood, we could not hear him. He was in a coma. Two stayed and the quickest left for help. The helicopter brought him to the hospital as the sun was setting and the mountians, even with the heat of summer upon them, turned cold and almost mean, saying things like "yup, uh huh, i can do this...and you had better remember that missy"
We lost Silas about a month later. He was in his hometown in the hospital there. Only Trilby and one other went to his funeral. I decided it was a good time as any to get my ass to Spain and get away so I could get a bit of perspective on things. I'm not sure if I did get any perspective, or if any was even there for me to grasp at the time. Something so random.
Like being reminded of Silas after all these years of forgetting by my daughter on the chairlift yesterday, saying to me, "I wonder if anyone has ever fallen off?".

Dreaming is free.....dreaming.

I was in Australia last night in my dreams. It was somewhere on the South Coast. I walked against the wind. It was dark and I was following the stars of the Southern Cross. The waves not too big, I could still hear myself thinking.
What I was doing was getting re acquainted with the land there. Unending beaches, a sea full of worlds. I had to see someone. My old boyfriend. I had to prepare first. See it first alone, then go where he was.
I was very happy on the beach. I felt safe and strong. At the beginning of something that never qite ended with him. A friendship, a deep respect. Mostly, a love for his homeland that will always remain in me, stronger than I have ever felt before about any place.
It took me a long time and many miles to find him. Finally I did...and the dream ended. I had all these feelings that I wanted to spill out to him. Explanations. But even my dream knew there was no sense in it going along that way. Sensible. Sensible?
Me?
It seems to be curiously so.

A Haiku

Deep freeze in my home
Put the meat on the back deck
Hope the dogs don't see.

Downer Dude

It's nearly a tragedy how unoften I feel (and I bloody hate this word) sexy.
It is also extremely rare to find myself feeling (and I hate this word even more)...horny.
So to feel both on one day and have limited distractions so that I can explore those emotions and feel like what some women out there feel like...is pretty cool.
I was holding it like a little secret and going to try to keep it alive till I got some one on one with my man.
Then I completely ruined it by giving him some responsiblity.
Just an early evening grocery romp-with very detailed instructions on what time to start bed, what the hell the french homework meant so as not to confuse my hard working man's brain over it,cheerily asking if the children could be in bed no later than yada yada b/c big one has been suffering a stomach achey thing and has 90 minutes of gymnastics tomorrow....
Oh what's the use?
On returning home at 8:30 qu'elle que chose?!!
t.v. on
no homework done
no bedtime stuff started
my libido
evapourated
into thin air.
This is a huge turn off for me. And so now it's gone, that day of whirling sticky sweet emotion...vanished.
I tried to get it back by looking at photos of (shhhhhhh!)someone else on that blasted facebook...but then caught myself and only looked for half the time I was planning on looking, so I guess I'm not that bad a person, right?

Jilly

I miss my sister.

She's living in Switzerland for two years. She. Is. Hilarious.

She is the type of girl that insane people find and want to be friends with.

She is the one dancing on the tables and swinging from the lights on the ceiling.

She is the one daring people to do the most absurd shit...only to have them succumb completely to her imagination.

She is unique and above all,

she and I share a love for the absurd and the nerd. Along with my other sister Chris, we know what's funny before we ever say "you know what's so funny about that?"

A sense of humour is one of our strongest connections...if something is not completely insane now, it will be later...and we will encourage it until it happens.



These clips I've posted on the right are from a series that I'm smitten with. All three of the main characters (MrG, Jonah and J' amiee) are played by the same guy. And because I lived in Aussie for two years and because Jilly and I spent time there together...I'm dedicating these to her-and to our old highschool drama teacher-Mr. Eugene Tenus.