adam and adam.

Why does the forbidden fruit always taste the sweetest?
It is a question I have been asking myself for as long as I can remember. I have never been happy with things 'as is', I choose to instead pine for things that are unobtainable.
I wish this was just the case with possessions.

Sadly, it is the same when it comes to my romantic life-I am never happy when things are easy.
It hit me tonight at work, when I saw a very attractive gay couple. I instinctively wanted to destroy them. Not because I was jealous of their relationship, I couldn't care less about that. What really mattered was the fact that the one guy became so much more attractive because he was unavailable.
True, he was good looking regardless, but somehow his smile seemed brighter, his body looked hotter, and his style evoked so much energy-because he was off the market.

Looking back over the years, and all of the boys (and girls) that I fell for, they all have one thing in common-a significant other.
And I wonder why I am so frustrated when it comes to affairs of the heart. How can I even begin to feel sorry for myself?
I have never went after someone who was looking for a relationship, I instead choose to be attracted to those who are disinterested, unavailable or worse- in a committed relationship.
I can go from being so cold and callous to being the most flirtatious boy in the room, when the object of my desire is the forbidden fruit.

Smoking Cigarettes

Nicotine has conspired to make me her dirty whore-and I am not ashamed of it.
I do not stand alone. I stand outside, five metres away from the entrance to all public buildings- in rain, sleet and snow and light up. Sometimes I sneak one in my 'non-smoking' house during one of my many predictable insomniatic sprees.
I light up after good sex, after bad sex, while having a coffee, after a big meal, for a quick break from the restaurant, waiting for the bus, listening to music, after a join and am reduced to being a chainsmoker while drinking.

I don't know what it is about the finely packed cancer sticks that attract me.

It's not the cost, the smell, the taste, the dirty looks from non-smokers, the coughing, the phlegm, the shortness of breath.
In fact, I detest all of those things.
It's not just another oral fixation. It's not just an addiction, dirty habit or to fit in.
It has little to do with being able to get a break, relax or look cool.

The Canadian government has been shoving 'antismoking' propaganda down our throats for years now. The grotesque photos of black lungs, hideous teeth and gums, sad children begging me not to poison them, a hospital bed, a wheezing old man and my personal favourite, the limp cigarette warning me of impotence.

It has been argued that smoking is taking a toll on our already failing health system, but I have to question these so-called 'concerned' Canadians.
Each cigarette costs fifty cents. Of that, twenty cents goes directly into the provinces pocket and twenty cents goes into the hands of the federal government.
I will end up quitting this 'filthy habit' soon enough, but until then if you see me light up consider it my personal stimulus package for my home and native land.

cough cough

Life's gone to pot

I remember the first time I got high. I was in the back of a remodeled electrician's van with several of my most hilarious friends. I remember feeling the wave come over me, my shit eating grin appearing and all of the worries in the world melting away.
It was a time where I felt like I was observing myself from so far away, but with the sound off.
Things began to change, and I'd have to smoke more and more to maintain that high, or else paranoia with creep in from the shadows that seemed to be engulfing the familiar.

Lately, I find myself smoking less and less of my favourite herb- and yet, just enough to bring the truth to light.
It's now responsible for the quirky comebacks, witty quips, and the ever popular foot in mouth maneuver. Something about weed doesn't allow me to relax anymore. It resurrects my sinister side to such an extreme, and I have learned to laugh at it.

random questions & answers. insomnia edition.

Q. Am I a worrier? Frantically.
A.It's social suicide... and I am sure taxing to my heart by now.

Q. What’s my favorite CD?
A. Glad you asked, wow... hmm... So Much Shouting, So Much Laughter by Ani Difranco.

Q. What's my favourite season?
A. That depends what part of Canada I am in. In Ontario I love the end of summer and early fall. In Alberta I like late spring.

Q. Does my home have an attic?
A. No. Atleast I hope not.

Q. Have I ever been too drunk?
A. Have I ever!

Q. Have I ever gone fishing?
A. Yes, though it was years ago, I think I was in grade five or six. I had to get my friend to put the work on the hook, and when I finally caught something it was a pike, followed up by a catfish.

Q.Have I ever seen a celebrity?
A. Far too many in fact.

Q. Have I ever been on a motorcycle? .
A. Twice. The first time I can barely remember, I was really young, like four. The second time was with a past boyfriend. He was really into his crotch rocket, both of them. ;)

Q. How much money do I have on me right now?
A. Zero dollars. I am in my housecoat.

Q. How many cars have I owned?
A. Personally, none. If I could the few we had around the house when I was a wee one, 4- Shadow, Tasia, Amber and Dusty.

Q. How many jobs have I had? Eight.
A. Hmmm... Let's see- 2 paper routes, 3 gas stations, 1 family run burger-joint. the retirement home, the spitfire, chapters, johnston's canyon, inns of banff, tony roma's, JD's, the casino, the spaghetti factory, lasik md, the keg, the magazine and the cantina. 19 jobs.... yikes.

Q. How tall am I?
A. 5'10 and 1/2

Q. Last person to call me:
A. Lisa, of course.

Q. Last thing I yelled out loud?
A. "What the fuck is up with his rogue activity?"

Q. Last person I was in a car with?
A. Alex. It still beeps all the time.

Q. Last time I ate at McDonald’s?
A. Sadly, today, Wait, not so sadly, that double cheeseburger was amazing. And only $1.69! ;)