just think, if it escapes you’re going to have to yell it

Yesterday The Boy and I got to talking about interesting names for cats. Yes, it was a slow Sunday afternoon and we were out walking.

I have always loved the name Milo for a dog. Not interesting, but reliable, like a dog is.  However, the chances of me being able to have a dog in the next while is slim…and sadly, I am allergic to cats. Still, we decided to compile a list of cat names just in case there happens to be a hypo allergenic cat out there.

Our suggestions:

Ms. Butterworth

Malvolio

Mr. Belvedere

Beatlejuice

Excalibur

Kandisky

Marizpan

Atticus

Earl Grey

but the winner…

Pew Pew.

And then when people question why your cat is named ‘Pew Pew’ you can reply, duh, its a laser cat.

No?

Maybe you have to hear the noise I’m hearing.

I think I just got a little bit more lame writing this post.

maybe together we can get somewhere

It’s funny where the mind wanders when sitting on the traction table, in the dark, in the early hours of the morning.

I was composing emails, to be sent once finished.

Sketching my next painting.

Figuring out the last minute things to add to my list for The Boy’s visit tonight. Check, check.

I visited another time, and briefly wished that things were different and wondered what if. Then thought about previous point and realised the excited butterflies in my stomach now, are a hundred times better than an awkward shoe gaze.

I zoned out listening to Tracy Chapman’s ‘Fast Car’ on the radio. I do heart that tune. Takes me back…

anyone else…

find this extremely depressing?

wonder what this will mean for radio 3.

blackberries

Dear Reader (can you tell I’ve been reading too much Stephen King?),

I find myself hovering over the type recently.

It always takes me awhile to adjust to change, and this is the first time ever I’ve stepped away from writing about it. This blog has been a get outlet for me, especially during the past few years. Take a look through the archives if you don’t believe me. Perhaps as we grow older its more about inward reflection, or perhaps I just don’t want to type it out, because that makes it real. And if its real, there’s a chance I’ll get hurt.

Often times I write the most when I’m woebegone. Its hard to make good art when you’re happy, don’t you think? Not that this is art, its blogging, but generally speaking. I’m working on this painting at the moment, and it’s the first time that I can remember where I’m not painting with someone in mind, or painting to get out a bad feeling. Its almost as though I am moving backwards, to move forward. Painting a version of a still life to get back to the root. The first thing I ever remember drawing in art school was a pot, with vegetables. Actual fruit must have been to expensive, I guess. So it feels a bit awkward, and yet liberating to get back to this place of just being.

I have not been sad for quite some time now, and its an odd feeling. Don’t get me wrong, I’m also a very happy person (outwardly) but there was a time when the sheets were used as tissues, more often then I’d like to admit. Its funny because I’m very positive person, for others, yet when the table is turned to me, I’m a complete pessimist. I think we’re all a bit like that. But why? Is it because we don’t want to let ourselves be happy? Don’t think we deserve it? I’m not sure. But I am happy and things are good. Yes, things are good…and I’m happy. There said it. Fact.

So, this is me writing from a different state, and I apologize if its awkward and not as sharp as I’ve been in the past, but I’m trying. Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to go listen to the new Doves records and cut out paper wings for these owls I’m painting. Retro owls, if your wondering.

computers

as soon as i’m told to stay away from them – suddenly everyone needs me to be on one.

i’ve been on the phone most of the afternoon with the parentals trying to fix their computer. and because of the pinched nerve in my neck, i’ve even put on the headphone clip thing to talk. mainly this allows me to grab my hair in frustration and fist shake whilst talking. trying to get my dad to understand formatting a hard drive is extremely difficult to do over the phone. you’d think the phrase “wipe clean” would be self explanatory.  i feel like an on-call IT person. really, ever since i moved here people keep coming to me for computer problems, at work especially. wtf? i don’t even know that much about computers.

but i do know this -

it is demanding to defeat those evil machines.

i think it could be so good

status

I’ve been using Facebook since I was in my third year of university, at Queen’s. That was about 4-5 years ago.

Back then it was a social network only opened to other students, at various universities across North America. Now I believe there is something like 175 million users? Its opened up communication lines that it is no longer surprising when old teachers, and elementary school enemies add you as a friend. And sometimes you will click through photos of people who don’t know and there isn’t a delayed reaction of is this creeping…I mean, they are public.

Good and bad is what I’m saying.

It also got me thinking, I’ve been blogging for just as long, but why all of a sudden I am bored with blogging and hanging around Facebook more?

Is it because now with the status updates I can say what I want in 150 characters or less? Therefore, it is just laziness? I mean the things going around Facebook now (the quizes, etc) are in no way revolutionary. Anyone who has been around the internet has done the What Colour Are You quiz. Is it the immediacy of it then? Is blogging really dead?

Discuss.

I have to go change my status.

Oh, and I’m purple, if you’re wondering.

you can drive a car through my head in five minutes

Since arriving here, almost a month ago, I have been having very disturbing dreams. Quite violent, and all around the theme of capitivity.

This, is odd for me. Yes, I have quite an active dream life, but typically the disturbing ones spread themselves out.

I’m not sure what to make of it all, but along with the violent dream life, there is a reoccurring face. He is one I have never seen before. His face is pale, his hair blondish, green eyes and his smile…well its good. And normally I can never recall faces in dreams. It is weird…

I’m reminded of the lyrics from The National’s Slow Show:

You know I dreamed about you. For twenty-nine years, before I saw you. You know I dreamed about you. I missed you for twenty-nine years…

Scary thing is, I think I know what the dream(s) mean.

I just don’t want to admit it to myself.

can owls have eye patches? sure.

Dear Reader,

Have I told you about Great Northern? I can’t recall if I posted about them or not…I’m just listening again to their latest album which came out a few months back. So good. If you happen to be in San Francisco, they are playing tonight at Hotel Utah, and Kid Mud is opening for them. Who by the way, you should know about too…click here for more details.

I’m a bit gutted I’m missing Canadian Music Fest this weekend. Sigh. I am happy my tickets got put to good use though.

I’ve been sketching a lot this week. Started a painting too. Trying to get back to me…

How is it we sometimes stop doing the things we love? Life gets in the way, but that’s just an excuse, really. Need to make more time.

Time to drink more tea, cider, laugh with friends, finish that book on the nightstand and turn the volume up and dance in the kitchen whilst making dinner.

Don’t worry, I have tredded slippers. No falling here.

What’s something you’re making more time for in your life these days?

do you never wonder

Really digging this video…

Sometimes I think the stupidest things too.

Franz Ferdinand – No You Girls

Sorry, won’t embed. Click to watch!