I Hate Myself For Losing You.

























Hey, Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better

Hey, Jude, don't be afraid
You were made to go out and get her
The minute you let her under your skin
Then you begin to make it better.



I spent part of my day off yesterday leafing through old photographs that had collected in shoe boxes in my basement. I was looking for new pictures to collect on the walls of my new apartment but I ended up finding something else instead.

Old friends, lost friends, happy times, sad times behind smiles and the me that the me now wishes never happened.

As long as I can remember, I always wanted to be a Big Sister. I waited with baited breath for that moment that I could turn eighteen and sign myself up for my very own companion. All I wanted was someone who knew what it felt like to be me.

If other girls my age were having self-esteem crisis, I was having a complete nuclear war.

I was overweight and tied into clothes that desperately tried to hide any hint of a curve. Going to the hair dresser was worse than seeing the dentist and even worse after receiving a perm that never left. I was ridiculed, I was embarassed.

I was humiliated.

When I think of being twelve again all I see is how much it hurt. How much I tried so hard to hide and how much it failed. When all the cool girls didn't have boobs I wished mine away. I squashed them under bras three sizes too small and hid them under baggy shirts. I couldn't wear jeans becuase I was too big. They hugged my big thighs and dug into my nonexistant waist. I tried over and over to trap myself in clothes that were much too small. Only to be embarrassed by my mother in front of store clerks.

When I look at the pictures I don't ever remember being happy. Most of the pictures you would see me ducked behind another or sporting a rediculous grin. I wanted people to know I understood how awfull I looked.

Even today, 40 pounds thinner, a hair straightener at my disposal, I pretend that I never was that girl I used to be. She embarrasses me. But I am being so unfair.

How can I encourage my Little Sisters to love themselves no matter what when I can't even bring myself to pretend that I was once the me I try so hard not to be. How can I teach them that its whats inside that counts, that I will love them unconditionally and faithfully when I can't even forgive myself for being a human afterall.

I'm sorry I ever called you fat, I'm sorry I hid you away and beat you up. I'm sorry I tortured your soul and hated everything you were. I'm sorry I never gave you a chance to be yourself.

I'm sorry I made you into the me I am today that just can't take me back.

Load Me Up.

































If we get to see tomorrow
I hope it's worth all the wait
It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

And I'll take with me the memories
To be my sunshine after the rain
It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

One more week. One more week and a million things to do. A wedding, a Big Sisters outing to the donkey sanctuary for abused donkeys (No. Seriously.), a doctors appointment, four full days of work, parents at each's others necks, a flipped out boss, things to pack, things to find, things to buy.

And there is something wrong with me that I just can't figure out. And its too embarrassing to put here. I just keep hoping its going to go away and then I won't have to worry about it anymore.

I just don't have the time to care about myself.

But my aparment completely rocks.

However... the twinges of fear are started to creep into my belly. I guess it hasn't fully sunk in that next week will quite possibly be my last week ever living at home. My last week actually working with my charge. My last week of loafing around on my days off watching daytime tv with my dad and having a cuddle-fest with my puppy.

Time is running out on being a kid.

And grownup things are all at once starting to bother me. If I'm only 23, why does it feel like I'm running out of time?

Back At One.

































I never knew
I never knew that everything was falling through
That everyone I knew was waiting on a queue
To turn and run when all I needed was the truth
But that's how it's got to be
It's coming down to nothing more than apathy
I'd rather run the other way than stay and see
The smoke and who's still standing when it clears

Everyone knows I'm in
Over my head

Over my head

My first timed run since I started re-training for the 5km "fun" run and I did 6km in 40 minutes. Or. 5km in 33 minutes. Not too shabby. If I keep working at it I might make it to under 30 before the end of September.

The family reunion was terrible. No really. It was. I ended up crying on the way home and then crying even more when I thought I may be changing into my crazy aunt. All because of my mean aunt. I guess it's not my fault that she can be so nasty sometimes. Nothing I say is right and nothing I do is correct. Everything I say she can argue. And her daughter is perfect. I've accomplished nothing and I'm going nowhere from nowhere. Fast.

I decided that next year I'm going to be busy. Too busy to be beat up.

I've got way too much on my plate right now and it's starting to bring me down. School, work, Big Sisters, new apartment, health checks, family gatherings, weddings, a bazillion forms and letters to fill out and write, 5km races... an un-mailed baby card that will probably never see the inside of a mailbox.

Is this what grown-up feels like?

Tu Sais Quoi?

It's driving me out of my mind
That's why it's hard for me to find
Can't get it outta my head
Miss her, kiss her, love her, wrong move you're dead

That girl is poison.

I got paid 12 dollars an hour to sit around today. First I read the newspaper for two hours (I didn't think that was possible either). Then I watched a mix of The View, Family Feud and the Mom Show. After such time I dutifully made a peanut butter and jelly sandwhich, baked some cookies, did a load of laundry, made a bed and finished a craft project.

One more day 'till vacation. I can't fuckin' wait.

I had to work at 9am today. I physically pulled myself out of bed at 8.41am. This is getting painfull. I just feel like I can't do it anymore. And I am not being fair to anyone, especially not the boy I take care of. I have become a care-giving zombie. He deserves someone fresh and new. He deserves me two years ago. Before I became his half time mum instead of his friend.

This experience scares me. Am I forever destined to spend five years at a job, get absolutely sick of it then have to search for something new?

Let's hope five years into nursing I may actually be admitted to grad school. I did genetic counselling every friday for an entire summer and I never once got sick of it. I actually looked forward to going. It rocked.

I've never been a nurse so I can't say much for what its going to do for me.

Moving on.

My condescending playmate showed up again out of the blue. It was awkward to say the least. But of course, she had other "stuff" going on and had to let me go.

We are both smart girls and I am sure we both know there must be some reason why we have seen each other once all summer and talked twice.

But of coures, as ever - avoiding conflict, I will shut my mouth and keep it so. I'm too tierd to fight.

I am okay with dragging this behind me, as long as it doesn't start to pick up debris. Then I may have to let it go because it will just be too heavy.

The other day, while driving my "magic bus" for work, I passed a man, sitting at the side of the road, slumped over. Like he was dead. I saw that others may actually be starting to take notice for this poor man so I kept driving. Four more blocks and I felt terrible. Turned around. Went back. What good was two entire days of CPR and first aid training if I just keep on going every time I saw a dead person?

But when I got back he was sitting in his chair and the crowd that had once begun to gather around him had left. I assumed he was okay and left again.

I am going to run in the University of Western Ontario's Homecoming "Fun" 5km Run.

Really. I am.

Yesterday I tried to run 5km and it took me an hour.

I want to finish the Fun Run in 30 minutes.

God help me... I've got 51 days.

Hang on, here I go.

Catch My Disease.

She got the power to be
The power to give
The power to see
Yea Yea
Suddenly I see

Suddenly I see
Suddenly I see
Suddenly I see
Suddenly I see

Suddenly I see
This is what I wanna be
Suddenly I see
Why the hell it means so much to me

I am so gosh darn excited. Why? Because tomorrow I go to pick up the keys to my very own apartment. My place. Casa du me. Maison de moi.

Finallly. Something that I have always wanted.

Somewhere to call my own. And only my own.

I guess when I look back in 20 years I will call this a milestone. A step to the rest of my life. But for now I am just way too excited about picking out paint colors and aranging furniture.

Ikea never had it so good.