Minefield of broken thoughts

Insomnia has struck again. It seems to be the strongest when my free time is abundant. My mind is left wandering (racing) through an abandoned minefield of broken thoughts and hurt feelings.
It drifts from lost memories of my ex and good christmases; to my annoyance for letting David's warmth pass by me, without ever letting him know my side; to my brief flush with Mike, who thought things were far more than they were; to the guy I've recently crushed on who now seems to have a lack of interest in my company.... and on and on.... Here I am faced with all these thoughts of situations that I am disappointed in the results.
I sit here wondering if I could clearly sort it all out, would these unhappy feelings dissipate... Or is that a pipe-dream? I feel internally we are mirrored by our external shell. We slowly accumulate scars, we carry them with us, and over time they weigh us down.
Hopefully we are strong enough to climb out of bed and meet that battle everyday, no matter how difficult or how outnumbered you may be, you fight.
Learn from these scars, these battle wounds, they only get worse as you get older.
I feel as though my minefield is packed full of these monstrous thoughts, I have been fighting them for quite a while now. I want to lie down and let them destroy my body and mind with scars. I know I can not.

Drinks anyone?

This morning I climbed into bed at 10am. Another night of ridiculous drinking until stupid-o-clock. Although I have been social for most of my life, I feel as though 2009 was a year of constant drunkenness. I feel a bit embarrassed when I think back to the amount of booze I have consumed, or all the nights which seemed never to end.
I did take a week off to detoxify my system, so I am sure that I do not have an extreme problem. But I am a little relentless in my partying. In fact this week I have gone out practically every night.
I don't really believe much in new years resolutions, but I feel that this new work position will enforce me to be more responsible with my sleep pattern, eating, and most importantly obsessive drinking in the new year. We'll see...
Last night I finished work and headed over to a friends house. i went with a couple people I work with, and some random guys that were guests in the bar that night. One was a particularly good looking young man with whom I spent the majority of the night chatting with. I knew that nothing would happen between us, and I sometimes wonder why I even try... Even still, I had a very good time all and all, and made some new friends. I also learned a very valuable lesson... if you leave the party at 7am, do not go somewhere seven times further from your own home.

Where's Christmas?

I feel as though Christmas is a million miles away. It's weird to walk through the malls and see all the bright decorations, hear the music playing, but not feel it inside. Usually by this time my ex and I would have already watched all our Christmas movies, and by working through them a second time. We would have the Christmas music playing on the radio, and be dancing and decorating. I realized we would also be plotting when to get our tree, and when we did, we would walk it the two blocks home singing 'Oh Christmas tree".
Then it kind of dawned on me. Christmas is about sharing the day with people you love. Whether it's just one day, or a couple weeks or silly stuff you do with someone. It's about being around and laughing with people you love.
This year my sister will be staying with me throughout the holidays. I'm also cooking Christmas dinner, and no one has called to bail out yet like previous years. Maybe I will feel it more so when my sister arrives. Maybe we'll watch movies and decorate together. Maybe I'll feel it on Christmas when everyone is around. Maybe I'll never feel it... we'll see

Luna & Sol

I decided to take a break from the isolation, the comfort of my apartment, and embrace the outdoors. I took a nice walk around my neighbourhood and watched the sun setting. The sky filled with bands of thick clouds. In between the bands were various shades of pink and orange. I couldn't help but gaze and marvel at the beauty in which the sky beheld. Sometimes you just need to slow down... see, hear, touch, or experience the moment, whatever it may be.
After the sun was gone. The moon appeared in all it's glory. Magnificently glowing, almost full and quite large in the sky, it beamed down it's comfortable reassurance that everything in the universe is just as it should be. The moon is my favourite. Many nights I have walked, or biked around the city, gazing up at it's beauty, daydreaming of something equally as appealing to my senses.

Respect is deserved

One of my regulars came into the bar with her friend. Turns out, her friend didn't have any money with her. This broke-beauty proceeded to order: two double vodka sodas, and nine shots. By this time, my regular smartened up and decided to clear the tab. She paid, explained the situation to me, and excused herself from the presence of disrespect.
Upon her exit the remaining 'friend', and a crazy random drunken mother were left. The two began to bitch about their children. It being after last call, I ignored them and continued to clean up.
Next thing I knew, the broke-beauty was screaming at the drunken mother's daughter on the phone. She kept repeating, "You need to give your mother respect! I'm going to take your mother home. I want to see your face, because you need to respect her."
This went on for over ten minutes. This woman, who obviously didn't respect her friend or her friend's generosity,was lecturing someone else on the morals of respect.
I put myself in the daughter's position. ~Your mother drunk at a bar, not wanting to come home. Some random drunk screaming at you over the phone about respect.~
At nineteen I had so many of my own issues, and this girl must too. It must be tough to deal with her mom behaving like that. I'm sure tonight will be another darkened spot on her memory.
I wanted to tell Brokey to shut up! That respect is earned, not just handed out like a flyer on the street.
Who is to say that her mother deserves respect? How does she treat her daughter? Yes, one SHOULD respect their parents, but in this situation only the mother and daughter truly know how much respect is deserved.

Contents of my Purse

I thought you could learn a lot about a person simply by looking at the contents of their purse, or wallet. What you carry with you says a lot about you. Here's what was in my purse yesterday evening.....


One Nestle Pure Life half full water bottle
One PalmOne Treo Smartphone
One 375ml half full bottle of Tanqueray London Dry Gin
One TTC day pass for November 21st
Two packages of caps (for cap gun)
One 250ml spray bottle of Moringa Milk body lotion
One OLD 2G Nano (I-Pod) with original white ear buds
One almost empty package of life brand tissues
One empty Mexican skull stash case
Cheat notes for work (cash prices)
Lip gloss
Receipt paper with weird ass song lyrics made up by weird guy at my job
One full size Nat Sherman Cigar
Grapefruit flavoured chap stick
One 100ml spray bottle of Vanilla flavoured body mist
Eight pens
Two wine openers
Two bobby pins
One 375ml bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream liquor
Card holder with bank card etc...
Random paper with friend's msn address
All-purpose tool (kinda like Swiss army knife)
Compact
Mascara
Two eyeliners
Three eye shadows
Seven random receipts
One TTC bus transfer for November 13th @ 5:45pm.

How simple

While walking home from the subway station, I was reminded just how beautiful the world can be. It was lightly misting, and was perfect temperature for my light pea coat. I looked up at the trees as I walked past the mini Mirvish parkette. I noticed hints of red and gold. Hearing a car splash by, I watched a leaf drop, it hit the ground effortlessly beside an imprint of it's golden father. I drew a deep breath, inhaling my childhood Halloween memories. "I enjoy this about the world", I thought as I turned my face towards the mist. How simple the beauty of the world can be.

Magically Delicious

This morning as I am getting ready for work and eating breakfast as I notice the Lucky charms cereal box in front of me. On the front Lucky is advertising that they have a new shape; the hourglass! It is gold and yellow, and as I look over the side panel of the box, it appears that all the colours are represented, and everything seems to be in order.
Then it hits me smack in the face, Where are the pots of gold? The yellow pots with the gold on top! They were replaced with hourglasses? Are we in the Wizard of Oz and Lucky (Dorthy) only has so much time to live? Is this some kind of horrible foreshadowing that Lucky Charms will only be in store for a 'limited time' (gasp!). I, personally was under the impression that with a leprechaun comes a pot of gold. Should the cereal not look like the picture on the right?
I look to the back of the box for more information. I discover that when Lucky uses an hourglass, it make everything go backwards (in time was my guess). That's a cool power to have, but when did Lucky get powers? Is he not just lucky? Is that not the purpose of a leprechaun, to be lucky and give you some of his pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?
On the back of the box there is also a comic strip showing how Lucky uses the hourglass to foil some kids out of their box of lucky charms.
Should Lucky not use his pot of gold to pay rent, and stop sleeping in the forest. Maybe then he wouldn't have to steal cereal from unsuspecting kids.

Me? Attractive?

Sometimes I forget other people find me attractive.
I arrived in a coffee shop a couple minutes early to meet my boy of interest and went to the counter to check out the goodies. (Not the blonde behind the counter, but the sweet delicious pastries that coffee shops shove in your face, forcing you to buy them.)
I decided on a herbal tea, and nanimo bar. The employee seemed baffled by me. After I had ordered my drink and treat he asked me if it was for "here, or to go?". "For here" I answered, expecting an Eco-friendly plate and glass mug. Instead he offered some awkward conversation, took my money, and smiling handed me my treat in a bag, and my tea in a paper cup.
Thinking not much of it, I took a seat.
Later in the conversation with my affectionate one, he asked me why I had gotten a bag, and paper cup, as it didn't seem like me. I responded telling him that I had in fact said, "for here."
We both laughed, and my boy said, "sometimes I would forget what I was doing when a pretty blonde would show up at my work."
We laughed a little more, and I thought how sometimes I really forget that some people find me attractive.
I think this is due to the media hype, plastering the world with so many pictures of the perfect (completely unachievable) body, with perfect skin and hair? Or because as people we are so self-conscious about our looks, that we forget that we do have attractive features?

Why men are afraid to ask for directions

Siting on the top of the steps outside Union station, I am waiting to meet my friend. Watching the endless parade of rush-hour pedestrians, I am content. Instead of listening to my I-pod, I take in the city; smelling hot dog vendors, listening to the buzz, and inhaling the fumes of rush hour traffic.
I notice a group of teenagers come up from the subway and stop on the street. They look around confused as the change between tiny underground tunnels to big loud, bright streets can sometimes do. Seeming disorientated they begin to argue quietly between them. I know it is because they are somewhat lost.
I wonder if they would ask for directions and how long it might take to do so. Out of the group of five, the one male finally approaches me, "Excuse me, do you know where Yonge street is?"
I offer the simple directions, and he walks back to his group of girls; they continued away.
I sat wondering if this was the reason to which men hated asking for directions. Often being forced to do so early in life time and time again. Later in life they get grumpy; refusing to pull over and ask. They keep driving in circles, getting more and more lost. They are hoping to recognize something, anything that will point them in the direction of the event they are already running half an hour late for. They have been in this town too many times to count, but years of embarrassing, "it's just one block that way" answers repeating through their thoughts, are making it impossible to consider stopping the car for anything less than a red.