my head is full

I need to find every way possible to make a little more money, save a lot, and spend as little as possible.

We just got a letter from our strata mgmt company that, pending a vote, in three weeks we will owe over 3 grand to pay for roof repairs. Granted, the roof repairs are on our side of the building. But still... three weeks?

More complaint letters to be written.

When I get really angry, I get violent. It doesn't happen too often, but when I feel that rage boiling up inside me, I have to take it out on something. And then I usually end up breaking something and/or hurting myself.

Tonight I went for a walk instead. Meh.

simmering on low

I'm debating whether or not to tear one of my bros a new somethin' or other.

It's been a long time coming. A combo of both brothers acting selfishly over and over again, not seeing how they could make things easier for or show their thanks to people around them.

But then I wonder if it's just ME being selfish and wanting to feel appreciated and like something I did for them meant something to them. But maybe I did it for me, because by doing something for someone else I feel good. So is it all selfishness in the end?

I don't know.

I've been searching and researching to find a good and relatively inexpensive digital camera to get my bro S for his birthday. Lots and lots of research and searching... and some frustration. Then, today, I posted on LB&LG's blog (let me know if you want the addy... I don't link to it directly from here because it's more of a family blog) photos from S's grad festivities, including ONE photo that I took of him and his Prom date, and told him the photos were up. He emailed me and said, "Aw F*CK NO".... followed by links to DIFFERENT shots of him and his date, shots that were professionally taken... by my other brother. Haha.

I feel MORE than miffed that he's so offended by the photo I took of him and her. That he thinks its SO bad that he wants me to take it off the blog. As of yet, I haven't replied to the email OR taken the photo down.

I was very close to emailing him back my own version of an email filled with all caps swear words... and I still might.

I don't know.

What I do know is that tzatziki and tea do NOT go well together in my tummy. Urgh.

Gone

I've been meaning to write about this for a couple of weeks, but I haven't been able to. Tom did on his blog... but every time I think about it my chest starts to hurt...

One of Tom's co-workers got shot in the head a couple of weeks ago. He died, needless to say. He was Tom's age. He had a wife my age. And a son LB's age. I'd seen the guy at the last company Christmas party, seen him, and his wife, and his son had come over to play with LB. Now his son doesn't have a Daddy anymore. He got shot outside of a strip club. What he was doing there, I don't know. The newspaper article refers to him as a "gang associate". I just remember him as a big burly Russian with lots of facial hair. He looked like a friendly bear to me, the way his grin flashed out every now and then. I didn't talk to him or his wife at the party, I don't think. I'm just shy like that I guess.

He was murdered, and the cops apparently have no leads, even though there were lots of witnesses. I think about it all sometimes, and imagine being in his wife's place, like I imagined being in Michelle William's place when Heath Ledger died. It's heartbreaking... to think of those little kids never getting to know their Daddy.

And it's frightening to me, to think that I was that close to him, hell, Tom worked with him... and someone killed him. Gang violence is on the rise here, and I've been clueless. It was only once I met Tom and he pointed it out to me that I started noticing drug deals going down. Now I see them in my neighbourhood all the time. I was walking through the park this weekend with Lily and there were 2 guys at a picnic table with mean looking dogs OFF their leashes. We're talking pit bull-bull dog mixes or something. To me, youngish guys acting shifty who have mean-looking dogs just scream "dealer". Or dealer-wannabe anyway.

And I could go right into how I had to confront another guy and his girlfriend who had a huge rottweiler off it's leash right by the playground where around 15 little kids were running around screaming and playing. She was sneering at all the older folks who were looking at them in disgust as they lounged on a picnic table and let the dog wander. So I called her on it and said that having such a large dog off it's leash so close to a playground makes us parents nervous for our kids. The dude just shrugged and said "people stereotype". Hello? Don't those dogs have a tendency towards vicious behaviour? And you never can tell what could set a dog off.. really, with all the demand for dogs and all the inbreeding... we never knew our dog had epilepsy till he bit me. Bah. Stupid people. I told him there was lots more space farther up the park where there weren't kids and he made a motion like he hadn't heard me so I repeated myself and he just shrugged and said we'll only be here for a few more minutes. I said again that it made us nervous for our kids (just to get some kind of lame last word in)... trying to sound mature when I really just wanted to tear the guy a new asshole. But I can never do that in the heat of the moment. It's always after I'm home that I start to shake and all these things I should have said come to me. But they did keep the dog closer to them, maybe by stepping on his leash, and they left about 10 minutes later.

I try to be peaceful and nice to others and just treat others the way I'd want to be treated and sometimes I wonder what's the point if so many others are just out to get what they can and don't care who they hurt in the process, don't care how they make others feel as long as they protect their image.

I hate incompetent people. Take my money and don't care to take the pains to make sure they do the best job they can. I should have complained when I was there. I should have refused, but I paid in advance. Stupid stupid STUPID. Dammit.

frick

I tried to bleach the hair above my mouth... I got gentler stuff than the stuff I used last time, and I did the test on the inside of my elbow with no reaction AND I only left it on for 1/4 of the time it suggested. It didn't work, and it BURNED me. Now half of the part above my upper lip is all red and ouchy. dammit.

deal

Just saw a deal go down outside LB's window. Stupid idiotic kids and dumb-ass dealers. I bet the three of them were younger than I am. Acting so cool, but it was completely obvious what they were doing. Girl hands bald guy something, her fat-ass boyfriend hands the bald guy something, they grin, shake hands, look around, then the two walk off, and the bald guy goes back into the building across from ours. Come to think of it, that's the third time today I've seen him meet someone outside his building. Fucken dealers are everywhere. And it seems most people are just too stupid to even consider avoiding drugs entirely.

rage, dissipating

Disjointed thoughts.

he weather is ominous tonight—warm, cloudy… after a blood-red sunrise.

Yesterday I saw an elderly couple taking a walk in the park. They cut across the tennis courts; the man walked with the aid of a walker, the wheeled kind that have a little bench built onto them. The lady seemed more steady on her feet, but she held onto his arm anyway. Halfway across the tennis courts, the stopped. I glanced over to see if everything was ok, and the man was helping his lady onto the seat of his walker. She sat, facing him, her legs dangling, and he proceeded to walk, pushing her... and I could hear them giggling.

Rage-disippated

Another late night home, no chance to focus on anything but baby. Shit builds up in my head after a while, then one little thing will tip the scales. The mess that builds up behind my back finally breaks something in me. I have to get out get away leave. But I can’t leave my baby. I can't shut myself in my room and blast metallica or stabbing westward, or sabbath. I can’t take my anger out on anything, I cant yell, can’t swear, can’t scream, cry, throw shit… I have to be there, smiling, for my baby. So we go out, I take a drive. Find release in going 20km over the speed limit, drive to a store, leave the baby food to crust up on the bib that I left on the stove, leave the dirty wet face cloth smeared with pureed yams on the highchair. Just leave it all and go to a store, go be around people, even if I ignore them. Buy something. Doesn’t have to be for me. Tonight I blew 50 bucks on toys for my baby, and it felt good. I haven’t bought her anything since christmas.

then i carry on--play a mix of tomek's mp3s on the computer, dance with lily to some techno, hoist her into my lap and write around her as the thoughts come to me.

i wonder how good those nights of vodka and techno really were. there were only a handful, but now they seem so far gone.

bob marley: burn one down

i like jamaican music. i dont know if he's jamaican... i can't stand rap, but his stuff is nice. soothing.

i think i cna really play with lily now--she was crawling toward me and i was on my tummy in front of her, i kept backing away a little bit and she kept crawling towards me giggling, and then i went for her, tickled her tummy and she shrieked and tipped over. it was awesome. :)

i love how she wraps her right arm under and aroudn my right arms while i'm typing and then sucks her thumb leaning against my right arm.

tonioght is a night where it feels like everything needs to be recorded. i wonder why that is. maybe the blood-red sunrise.

Why I write—to not forget, always lists everywhere, day planner, blog, I guess I write not to forget any day-to-day things and also little things in my life, day to day emotions etc.

and it's pretty sad to think that the only reason for my sudden boost of good feeling is because i know that tomek is finally on his way home.

Want to do something nice for me? Take me to a bookstore. Let me browse around. I don’t need to buy anything. Just give me that time, come with me, lets look at books in the kids’ section, let me look at poetry books, griffin & sabine… steve berry…

Is it hypocritical that I haven’t read the majority of the books I own? I’ve perused them.—that's what I do with poetry books.. I flip them open and read a bit, have a little taste, then I’m done for that time.

I used to wish I could eat words instead of food. Lick the pages—the better the book, the more nutritious it was.

Ever post a blog with a certain person in mind? I do.