first meeting

Through the moving darkness of drunken sleep a shrill ring tone broke through, insistant, almost desperate, panicked. Finally I tore myself from unconsciousness and stumbled into the hallway, as though familiar with this apartment, answered the door and it was her and it could have been a dream but it wasn't and I went back to bed and she was lying next to me, she was talking to me, touching me, kissing me, on my cheek and the corner of my mouth, and then I sunk into sleep again and the next thing I knew it was morning, I felt sick and she was gone.

And what have you done?

It's almost two in the morning. I was falling asleep in front of the TV a few hours ago and decided to go to bed but of course as soon as I lay down in the dark of my former bedroom I was wide awake again. So this is Christmas - I dread to face the inevitable question that follows that statement - I think I'm experiencing an assault of post-holiday gloom to my various senses, just wait until you see me around this time on New Year's Eve, must be all the fattening food and sugary sweets that have been force-fed to me by means of brainwashing and possibly red-suited telekinesis. It's so weird, I was having a staring contest with myself whilst brushing my teeth just now, yeah I'm weird too, but I barely recognize myself sometimes. Another year has gone by, still completely narcissistic. Well, almost completely. There are still some stray thoughts of interest directed at certain someones that are not part of the population of my own mind and on that note I think I am most definitely destined for a life of devoted celebacy. I'm here. The other day I was literally a wall away, when I was visiting Fredde who got an apartment in the same building, I was in the same building, and my being in said building was made known through text messages and telepathy, but nothing. I left the christmas gift with Fredde, figured you know, they're more likely to see each other first anyway...but anyway, I should get some sleep, or rest at least, or brooding even, done and yeah... wow, odd thought processes, i just thought of Lucy in the sky with diamonds and then on auto-pilot thought of an acronym for myself and came up with Ida in the desert with acorns, acorns of all things, I ask you,

yeah, the holidays are evil - but at least I got some nice pretty things, my family is still in one piece and I have not morphed into blue whale just yet...

The second letter

When I was eleven or so and I had one friend I remember telling her about my dream boyfriend. He had brown hair and green eyes. His favourite band was Metallica. I guess I still thought maybe there was a smidge of a hope for me to turn out normal, desiring the house and the lab and the 2,5 children and the valium, not just desiring to have the desire. Instead, here I am. I'm not perfect, in fact I'm quite fucked up. I'm in no position to be making any promises. What you see is what you get, if even. But I can tell you one thing, amidst the quirks and the phobias that fit into that one term "fucked up", including fear of intimacy, commitment and even conversations at times, an unhealthy view of sex and a cynical outlook on life, and the emotional capacity of the twelve-year-old I was when things went wrong, I have felt something akin to normal, healthy, sweet infatuation that could quite possibly lead to the real thing, once, for one person, and I don't mean to scare you but that's you, baby. That's what I have to offer. Take it or leave it. A piece of advice would be, leave it. Run for the hills. Because this girl's got a ton of baggage.

That's it.

Taking a breath in the capital

It's another world, not another corner in the one world, but another one altogether. It's familiar but foreign at the same time; it's familiar, it's home, but I'm foreign, an alien on a visit, I come in peace. Some times I have to think of something to say, and I come up with the most mundane pleasantries, or I come up with nothing at all. It's all about adjustment periods. You get used to anything given enough time, even things you used to know and then forgot along the way. It's all about time and presence. I try to be where I am now, I try not to drift off anymore, but that too takes practise I guess.

There's no snow in Stockholm. A bit of a disappointment but not much of a surprise. Spend enough time away from Sweden and you start to believe the universal stereotypes: we're all long-legged, blue-eyed blondes who live in igloos and ride on reindeer as we go hunting for whales and polar bears. It's nice here. I look at my brother's family, their little everyday rituals, their language, their love and I can't help but to wonder why I'm not cut out for it, it seems perfect, why doesn't it fit me, or rather why don't I fit into it, the picture, this way of life, this world, why do I stand out at all the wrong angles?

Well. As you might have guessed, the aeroplane did not crash. It ate up my suitcase somewhere between Chicago and Stockholm, but other than that the flight and the aftermath of it was somewhat painfree after that initial first impression in Vancouver. I've just fed my seven-month-old nephew Theo and showed my soon-to-be-two-year-old niece Milou "Gnomes and trolls" that I have downloaded onto my laptop. I like children, but just like normal-sized people they make me vary in the beginning, but we're all warming up to the idea of each other fairly quickly. Plus, no-one speaks your name like a child who has recently learned how to form words...

the travels begin

Vancouver International airport. Waiting at my gate, aptly located at the far end of the entire airport, having already gone through Purgatory I am now awaiting the jaws of Hell to open up and swallow me and then board me onto a solid steel vessel posing as a bird to take me to Chicago of all place, Chicago I ask you, who wants to go there? I have every intention of getting on the first available flight out of there as soon as I land, I assured the sour-faced border official as she took my fingerprints, I am going to Stockholm, to Stockholm, SWEDEN, yes, thank you, happy christmas.

And then of course there were metal detectors to pass through after I'd checked my suitcase, without any jackets, hoodies or shoes or metal objects on my person, and of course, having completely miscalculated the size of aforte-mentioned suitcase I was wearing two hoodies, a jean jacket and a winter coat, plus almost-too-tight leather boots straining between my calves and the narrow-cut jeans that I carefully had to peel off in order to get the fuckers off my legs, and then there was this laptop to be removed from its laptop bag and a forgotten belt with metal buckle that caused the detector to beep at me and as a punishment I was molested with an equally beeping piece of plastic. Yes. It was all very lovely. As usual. It is now a quarter to eight. I've been here since six. I managed to fish enough coins outs of my pockets to buy a coffee but have not had as much as a sip of it yet since like everything else in Hades it's scorchingly hot and have only managed to spill half of it over my hand walking to, yes, the very far end of the bloody place. I have not slept for two nights. I bloody hate airports. In fact, the only thing I hate more than airports are aeroplanes.

I was quite anxious about this trip, in fact I was panicking all night, but now I am merely pissed off.

Happy Christmas.

Let's do the time warp again.

There is nothing as magical as the fall of the first snow of the year. We could see the shadow of it through the frosted window and we ran outside and we were four again, but unfortunately time reduces the impact of magic, and each year it wears off quicker than it did the year before. We stood mesmerized for ten seconds staring up into the white noise. Then for the sake of being stubborn and not wanting to admit to ourselves that the magic had worn off and that we were freezing we occupied ourselves in comfortable silence for another minute: I made a snowball and threw it against the neighbouring building, then another one. Cesar wrote his name on the ground. I mapped out a peace sign with my footprints. Cesar did pirouettes and tried to catch snowflakes with his mouth. When you look directly at them they fall with such speed you lose sight of them immediatelly, but when you gaze through them like a blanket they seem to drop in slow motion to the ground. After the one minute we admitted defeat and strolled back inside to warm up again.

I can't believe I'm flying on Monday.

We haven't left the apartment for two nights, with the exception of the brief encounter with the snow. Cesar is going crazy. I wish I'd never had to leave again. He says we need a bigger place and more friends. I'm shutting the doors to reality and shrinking my world. How did we ever find each other and of what is our middle ground made of?

Time to get cozy on the couch and drink coffee and chew nicotine mints. I guess I quit smoking again. It's like this past year never happened, like it was all a bad dream, I'm right back where I was a year ago to the day -- I wonder what's going to happen this time around...

The first letter

It’s one o’clock in the morning. As usual, I can’t sleep. I had this image in my head just now, in the bathroom, glancing at my own reflection as I turned back to the door, okay staring at my own reflection as I mapped out my distinctive features, and as I was looking into my own face in the dirty mirror glass, I gradually began to see past it, past myself, or past a layer of myself,
my vision sort of blurred but I could see myself more clearly.

I won’t take any Tylenols again, I promise. Trust me, I learned my lesson last time.

Something made me think of you, though.

Not just hearing your voice reason with the otherwise luring insanity of the back of my mind, but something else. A thought, maybe. An image most likely. I don’t even think in words anymore, I think in images and they’re not exactly clear either, they’re all overlapping, and morphing, and constantly moving. I find it hard to focus. I think I was remembering something about you,
a look you gave me or a secret smile.

I think about you a lot lately.

Especially when I can’t sleep. I know, it’s unhealthy. Most likely I am becoming obsessive again. But it’s not like before, when I was younger and I would lose track of time, or my grasp on reality; it’s different this time, now I can have my head in the clouds and keep my feet on the ground. It’s like what I was telling you about the mirror, I see past the first layer,
reality,

and I can gaze beyond it without it actually disappearing or changing, it’s still there, still very much real, just toned down.

Transparent.

Someone once told me that if I you run into a bear in the woods, the best thing to do is to drop down on the ground and play dead, in which case the bear will most likely leave you alone as opposed to if you start running. If you start running the bear’s instincts will kick in and she will take up chase. And they might seem like big, clumsy teddy bears, but they will catch you and one swat to your head with one of those paws could kill you in a second.

I quickly discovered that the technique worked with people as well, or situations.

Later on in life the two bled together.

Playing dead became a way of running. And as long as I was running away, I was dead to the world, just like Juliet. Recently, I can’t help but think it’s Romeo I’m running away from. You know, maybe it’s easier to just stay dead. Maybe I don’t want to wake up again and face the tedious cruelties that await me. Maybe I have good instincts and know what’s best for me… or maybe I’m a terrified little ferret.

I’ll wait for you, that’s what you said.

Well, you wrote it on a wall. We were such kids. Am I still a kid to you? Do you even know me, really know me? No, of course not, what a stupid question, how could you possibly? I don’t know you either. I think I’ve been too afraid to get to know you. I think I’ve been running away. This is no surprise to you, I’m sure. Do you even care?

I keep imagining that you share my thoughts about this and my memories of us, but you probably remember things a lot differently and it all probably means something altogether different to you, if it means anything at all.

It’s almost been five years since the first time I saw you.

It was infatuation at first sight and also the most terrifying thing I have ever experienced. I’m exaggerating. You were beautiful. I was speechless, worse, I spoke,

are you with someone,

and everyone thought it was a joke, even you, although the way you looked at me, the rest of the night you kept looking at me and smiling shyly, I’m probably inventing these memories as we speak, but it was New Year’s Eve and by right all our lives could be perceived magical if only for that one night and they did and the night lasted for ever until it was light outside and since it was the first of January and we were in the North of Sweden we had already missed half the day when the sun came up.

The next New Year’s Eve I was on an aeroplane going across the Atlantic Ocean.

I’ve yet to come back.

Do you think it’s possible that you are the reason I’ve lingered here, do you think maybe I’m avoiding you?

Other things have happened, to both of us, it’s not as black and white as that, why haven’t you asked me to come back, why haven’t you missed me enough to tell me to come back, do you even think about me at all? Nothing ever happened between us, so why does it feel like everything happened between us, and it was all that one night, that one night when something could have and was supposed to have happened and nothing most certainly did and that was my fault I pretended to be asleep by the way, I was scared, I ran away, and I kept running, it’s true, but if nothing happened why can’t I forget about you, why do I still lie awake at night and think about the way you looked at me, that first night and every night since it, and even that one morning,

you were framed in the light bouncing off the snow on the ground,

you had snowflakes in your hair, and your eyes were burning,

I’m not trying to be poet, I’m trying to be honest, but I think I’ve forgotten how.

I don’t even remember a single conversation I’ve had with you. All I have of you are images and I probably made half of them up. How sad is that? I’m beginning to think this has absolutely nothing to do with you, actually. I think this is about me. I think I’m avoiding myself, not you, or at least what you see in me, my own reflection in your eyes

as cheesy as that sounds, the way you look at me. No-one looks at me the way you do.

Or I don’t see it. Or I don’t care enough to take notice. It’s not black and white. Nothing is, not even my images of you.

The other night I actually got some sleep, but do you want to hear something ironic?

I had a dream and you were in it.

I was back home and you were there and I worshipped you as always and hid it as always and you, you were back together with your bastard of a boyfriend and completely oblivious to anything having ever been going on between us, so oblivious in fact that I started to doubt it myself, I started to think maybe I made it all up, and then I woke up, and now I can’t stop thinking about it. It wasn’t even real. It was a dream. And I’m losing sleep over it.
I’m thinking maybe going home for the holidays wasn’t the best idea, but I can’t wait to see you, to I don’t know, I don’t even know what we do, do we talk?

Do we touch each other or hug or make toasts or tell jokes or avoid or what?

I don’t even know anymore. In fact I think we’ve only been completely alone with each other twice. And there was nothing to say.

How can there be so much between us that it can fill up five years worth of sleepless nights and not words enough to fill five minutes?

I have to get up early in the morning, I’ve got errands, got to go check out this school, this art school down on Granville Island that I really want to apply to for next year, and then I’ve work in the afternoon, lots of markdowns to advertise and lots of retail fake Christmas cheer to spread with Rudolph, so I should probably go back to bed and at least try and get some sleep. But I really need to sit down an re-evaluate my life situation.

I’ll see you soon anyways.
Take care until then. Bye.
Yours, Ida.

crossing the road

I just said goodbye to Ana. (and she hugged me. Because it's almost Christmas. Or so she said... it was fine. I think she might be on my list of "People I don't mind hugging" now, so that's fine...) She's flying to Peru tonight. Now I'm sitting in Blenz on Broadway and Granville, thinking what if my world is falling apart again. What if I go back to Sweden for five months and then don't get accepted to Emily Carr. What if this is the end of the Canadian Road for me? I know I'm indulging in my anxiety and I just need to get my shit together and review my options and sit down and make a conscious, informed choice and stick to it, but I am so terrible at that stuff. To be honest it terrifies me. Because if you're a leaf in the wind and you land in the middle of the road or a lake, it's not your fault and maybe you were meant to get there and you have thus completely washed your hands off any responsibility of your own life, because this is your life, you don't want to fuck that up, right, I mean just imagine... well, that's ridiculous, I know. Anyway, I have to go to work. I know things will work out in the end they always do.

'tis the season to be anxious

So on Saturday I was feeling somewhat down, not exactly suicidal, but very Eeyore-eque, like everything is hopeless and there's no point to your existens and all that stuff. Not an alltogether nice feeling, as you can imagine.

On Sunday the world flipped over and I was upside-down for most of the night and bouncing between the walls, not literally, but almost. Not necessarily in a manic fashion, just very very uncalm, I suppose. I also started fretting about the fact that I wasn't feeling tired at all and that I wouldn't be getting any sleep and I had work in the morning, so long story short, when I found a little packet with six Tylenol cold pills I figured they would knock me out. Did they? No, no. They made me whoosy, and made me throw up in the middle of the night, and then toss and turn in cold sweat for the rest of the morning. I got up in time for work but couldn't shower properly because I got lightheaded and shaky, and the cold sweat and dizziness washed over me again, and... well, Ana and Cesar gave me hell for it later in the evening when I told them, making it sound like I'd tried to overdose or something which is preposterous because they were bloody Tylenols, but anyway... I realize it was stupid all the same and I mustn't have been thinking completely straight at the time, so I'm just writing it off as one of my antiques whilst being crazy.

Today is Monday and I've spent the entire morning writing lists which tells me that I am very anxious, but that's alright because I have to go to work now and who has time for anxiety when there are t-shirts to be folded? Later.

Forget Me Not

How's that for a new title for the film? "Forget me not" as in the flower... too cheesy? Fuck, I'm so cheesy lately... Well, I guess it's only fitting, since I was whiney already, haahaahaa... no.

Brooding on a Monday afternoon.

Okay, so I'm making living much more complicated than it has to be. I wish I could be in the moment, but I'm not. I'm never in the moment. I'm in the past and the five different futures I can imagine at a time depending on every choice I make or don't make, but I'm never in the present. And I'm never completely present. I'm not really here. And half the time I'm not really there, wherever, either, I'm not really anywhere, if not lost. But not in terms of not knowing where I am, more so why I'm here and where I should be. The whys are always trickier than the whats... Anyway, I was sitting in this coffee shop, it's called the organic coffee house and it's on the edge of Granville Island just before the bridge and I was killing time waiting for my call time on this student film I was doing this weekend at Emily Carr (which was a disaster by the way.) and since my call time kept getting post-poned I had a lot of time to kill... and I was sitting there by one of the tables overlooking the pond outside, listening to the bagpipe music being played on the stereo and observing the ducks as they waddled around and waggled their tail feathers and nuzzled their chests and nibbled on each other's wings... and I was thinking, if you're a duck, there is just no possible way to fuck up your life is there? I mean, what could you possibly do wrong? And then I thought, have you ever seen a brooding duck? No. And then I wallowed in self-pity for a bit and wished I was a duck and then I went and shot the stupid short film. But really though, when you think about it, what is the point? I mean, is there one? Is there supposed to be one? Did I miss the boat or something, because this seems kind of... I don't, not enough, but then maybe I'm over-demanding. Maybe the moon landing did take place and I'm cynical. Maybe Jesus was actually born in December as opposed to in June. And maybe Pluto isn't a planet... it doesn't change many things, does it?

I can relate to Frank, Viggo's character in "The Indian Runner", because if this is all there is... well, that's sort of terrifying, isn't it. And liberating too, I guess.

Had enough.

I'm defeated by my own words, and I'm struggling with imagery, but it's overlapping and then I get mixed up. I need to move out. I can't stand my living situation anymore. It's just not healthy for me. But I'm trying to focus on what little brightness there is to be found on the side of things, which is that in about a month I'll be leaving this place and I get to go home to my country and family and friends and the beautiful T and forget all about failed audition, chaotic characters, gross gnomes, time wasted and leather bags! I can't wait!

intersection

Last night in Death by Chocolate we were serving the few desserts we had on styrofoam plates. Yeah. The dish washer is now completely broken. It's not just leaking water all over the floor and posing as a grave safety hazard for the poor employees scurrying all over the place, but it's actually broken. Which meant we couldn't use any glasses, plates, cutlery or anything that required washing, but all disposable stuff. Cheap, I know.

I really don't want to go back there tonight.

On the upside I'm getting stuff done, well kind of, I'm writing anyway. I'm on the third draft of my screenplay. We're discussing possible ways of promoting the thing and so on. This is the creative stage of our project though and I'm trying to make the most of it because eventually we're all going to be frustrated, uncreative and hating each other most likely... I'm with Cesar right now in Big News coffee shop, or "the clock tower" as I like to call it, and we've been discussing web layouts and promotional pictures, it's all very exciting..

My back really hurts since yesterday, although I don't know why. Probably all the typing...

Also a shadow of a feeling has risen from the past, the unrequited love of my life has come back to haunt me, but that's okay, I'm coming home for christmas and new years and I'll get to hang out with all my darlings back home and it'll be just like the old days... hey, a girl can dream for a moment right, before she has to get back to reality! :)

Not Sorrow.

I had my second audition at Emily Carr the other day. It was a really awesome short, I didn't get the script until just before I had to go down there, but I read through it a couple of times and it was really imaginative and the writing was incredible, so I was pretty excited about the whole thing.

And as I was sitting outside the auditon room this guy comes walking up with a coffee cup to give to the person inside, and he says hello to me and the other girl waiting, and then I feel him looking at me, so I look back and smile, you know one of those awkward smiles between strangers who are literally stranded with one another. And he asks me if I'm on Casting Workbook and, short but drawn-out, awkward dialogue in summary: he was casting for the two characters in his own short in the building across the street and thought I would be perfect for the female one, only I hadn't come up as an option from Casting Workbook. And then he asked me if I'd have an extra 15 mins after I was done with this audition to come and read for him, and of course I said yes.

I did my audition, it was really weird, because it was a no dialogue scene, and the guy basically read the scene aloud and I just had to react to what he was saying and use that as direction. I hated it, I felt so lost and stupid, and I had to do it about four times, and by the end of it he and the girl were going on about how I was really in the moment (which I wasn't, but I didn't tell them that for obvious reasons) and the guy said he loved my eyes (that's constructive feedback right there!) but they seemed pleased, so I had my hopes up and then I ran to the other building and did a coldread with the coffee guy and he seemed even more pleased, so I don't know. I do know that I do much better with words than actions, so I'm sure I wasn't nearly as awkward in the second audition as I was in the first...

My agent called me today and said she'd heard back from the first guy and that it had been really close between me and another girl, and though he loved my audition and thought I was a great person and all, he decided to go with the other girl, but was it alright if he recommended me for other students at Emily Carr who were also doing final projects right now. So that's good feedback, I guess. It would have been great to do that short though, because it was a wicked story and very challenging character (the embodiment of Sorrow!) and whatnot, but ah well...

Still haven't heard from the second guy, so am still keeping my fingers crossed for that one.

Also I have a new audition for a commercial tomorrow and I won't get the sides until I get there, so it's either one of those stupid action-type of auditions, or a cold read. I hope it's a cold read (I'm good at those, at least.)

Now I have to finish the 2nd draft of my screenplay before going back to Roots for an employee meeting at 6:30 and then rush over to Ana's for a writing/production meeting at 7:30 -- I'm definitely keeping myself busy!

Oh, and it's raining.

I like for you to be still

I fell in love yesterday. It was my brief coffee break and I ran next door to the Starbucks almost hidden away in the pouch of Chapters like a baby kangaroo and got my fix of dark roast. Then I strolled around in Chapters looking at all the books I would like to buy but mustn't. And then I fell in love with the words of Pablo Neruba. (And bought "Twenty love poems & a song of despair")

Later that afternoon I got off work and went home and fretted about my non-existant Halloween costume whilst waiting for Cesar to join me and get ready and then we were heading to Davie to go clubbing because it's been almost a year since we have and I know Cesar misses it a lot and I kind of wanted to just be out somewhere and let go as well.. while I was waiting I also talked to my agent on the phone concerning two auditions, one student film I'll go for on Monday and one small role in a regular film that we both decided wasn't worth it right now...

Cesar and I were supposed to go to Celebrities but when we found out that the cover was $40 we decided to seek our adventure elsewhere and ended up in Numbers where neither of us has ever been before and it was sort of fun. We danced a bit, had a couple of beers (and I should not have, because we had a bottle of wine before going and I do not mix well - but surprisingly it was fine this morning, so I guess I'm one step closer to alcoholism! Three cheers and a tiger...) and stuff. Just before we left I went off by my own and ended up on the dance floor again and I saw the same blonde who had smiled at me in the staircase earlier and I decided to linger nearby and dance for a bit. She was busy dancing with another lady though, but then she saw me and started eyeing me and before I knew it she was no longer dancing with the lady in black cat costume but with me. And when I say dancing, I mean softcore foreplay of course. It was fun. I gave her my number and said I had to go (Well, Cesar was still waiting after all.) and she said she was going back to Seattle in the morning, but if she called this number would I come and see her before she left? I said yes and it was nice meeting you, and left.

Of course she didn't call me in the morning, but then I wouldn't have notice if she did. I woke up at three this afternoon and had two missed calls from Sweden and one text message. The message was from her (her name is Sandra) and she said she passed out and will I be coming down to Seattle some time (and "What's your name again, I can't read your writing" hehe..)

I look worse for wear today, but I feel fairly fine. I made some soup and took it with me to work. The sky is gloomy but life is good. Let's see if Chocolate can Kill it for me, shall we...

Lately I feel like there's not enough of me to go around. It's frustrating me to no end. I want to be there for people and not neglect them even though my schedule is packed, I want to do a great job in anything I do and still not neglect my own projects, and I try to do these things (and not neglect myself at the same time either) and it's just too impossible. I guess I'm not enough. Or good enough or not trying hard enough or something..

Anyway. Spending the night in North Van and skiving off work was a great idea, because the little clown-nose photo shoot that Cesar and I organized spontaneously did the trick, and so did the audition I went to yesterday. I feel a little more alive now.

The audition went well, I think. I found the place, I accidentally stumbled in on the person before me doing his audition, but the girls were really cool about it. I did my thing. They seemed to not hate it. The girl whose written and will direct it asked me to do it again as though I were drunk, so there goes Cesar's a my theory about them probably wanting it to be played very seriously, but I did that and at the end they burst out laughing and said it was hilarious (I'm not sure if that was a good thing or not yet) and then added the customary "Great, we'll be in touch" bit and now I'm waiting to hear from them.. It's just a student short, so it's unpaid, but the girls seem really cool and I really want to work with them, actually I just need to work on something that's not retail or serving, so I really hope I get it.

I'm between my jobs right now, and for the first time in my life I wish I meant "unemployed" when I say that, but unfortunately I mean that literally. I just got off work in Roots and came to Death by Chocolate early to use their wireless and drink their coffee before I start round 2 at six...

I LOVE AUTUMN

Working in Roots is not my thing at all. I understand that it's good quality clothes and genuine 100% italian leather bags made in Toronto as opposed to China as everything else in the store (except for the new scarves that are, as I discovered today, made in Germany.) and all that, but to be honest (and I sincerely hope my manager or co-workers don't stumble upon this blog in the near future!) I couldn't care less if I was apathetic. Personally, what I do to contribute to the world of fashion, is I go to a thrift store and if I like the look of it and it's comfortable (and nine times out of ten, black) and cost under $10 then chances are I might buy it. Shoes, bags and purses, whether they're comfortable or not, I probably won't, because to be honest I don't see the fascination. At all. I still have the black boots I bought in sixth grade. When I was younger I would design and make my own clothes a lot of the time, at least that way there was some creativity exercised as well, but I couldn't drag my sowing machine with me everywhere I've moved and I definitely couldn't bring it overseas with me, so I'm not doing that anymore. Now, I might be wanted by the fashion police in some areas of the world, but at least I have somewhat interesting hobbies, and I used to have a life as well, one that involved more complicated and profound obsession, mainly chiselling out a facade of self-adoration, no but seriously... my best friend adores fashion and wants to be a designer and he's obsessed with shoes and boots, but whereas I do like clothes and design in all shapes and forms, I have a short attention span for things that are mainly functional in my life and it might not be logical, but it just bores me... My head's in the clouds half the time and by the time I discover that I do like something that's "in", it's out... or usually the other way round actually, I'll wear whatever I feel like and be out, and by the time I've tired of it, that style or colour or whatever it is, comes into fashion... so I guess you could say I'm ahead of my time! Hah. Well, there you go. You can keep your logic for all I care.

Back to the job in Roots for a moment though, the whole people aspect of it is even worse than when you're waitressing, because when you're waitressing you're at least expected to approach people, in fact they get pretty grumpy if you take too long in doing so, whereas in retail they run away from you or glare if you as much as think of cracking a polite smile or greeting them as they enter your store... and it is not in my nature to approach people, or talk to people, or smile at people. It is in my nature to avoid people at all costs unless the few friends I've consented to make over the years literally corner me and introduce me to someone, I might consider getting to know the person, but before I do know them there will be as little chit-chat as humanly possible... well, that was the old me anyway, I guess I'll have to change if I'm going to survive the next year or so (unless I decide to move out of the country after all, I still haven't decided)

Good news coming up though. I finished my screenplay with the working title "Tequila Rose". The first draft is officially done. Now all I need is some feedback and some re-writes under my belt until it's perfect, and then I think that is going to be my first own project in the spring.

I've also started working on a second screenplay actually. The working title being "Blue print". It's about halfway done right now. If I didn't work 24/7 I might actually finish that one too before the next moon, but alas, I have no spare time to as much as eat or sleep anymore, so I don't see that happening...

Tonight, I'm going to an ESL Writing Workshop at the Main Library downtown. Something different to do, I figured. And afterwards I'll probably head over to North Van and spend some quality time with my best friend Ces, since I barely see him anymore because of both of our schedules. Same with my other best friend, Ana. But she's taking the writing workshop too, so I'll et to see her tonight too.

And she's back...

It's cats and dogs outside in Vancouver today. I'm sitting in my least favourite coffee shop in the city and watching people in hoods scurry by the window, presumably on their way to give thanks together with their families and stuff their faces with turkey. Luckily, I'm Swedish and have nothing to be thankful for, so I don't have to worry about that. I mean, All Hallow's Eve and Christmas are bad enough for my stress level, I don't think heart could cope with another Holiday in one Autumn/Winter to be honest.

I know it's been a while since I've updated my blog, and to anyone who's keeping track, I'd like to apologize for this, but the thing is I got another job. Yeah, that's right. I'm working in Roots on Granville, yep, you heard me right, a day job, selling, I know what you're thinking, but no, I'm not smelling popcorn and I do hate it, but this ghastly boredom of a job is actually an investment for the future, but I'll tell you more about that later... Also, before I got my second job I was ill for quite a while. It took Ana's worry and persistance to bring me back to the land of the living. That and some vacuuming and sushi.

Today/tonight is actually my one day off in a fortnight. I had it fully booked, actually. I was having coffee with Ces in the morning, then coffee and british comedy with Syd at noon and then finally non-thanksgiving dinner at Ana's place at six. I guess the dinner might still happen, but the first two are goners, because I woke up quite late this morning and realized that my mobile had gone and died on me during the night. My charger is in North Vancouver (on Holiday) and my room mate (who has the same phone, thus the same charger) is nowhere to be found. What to do? I have no idea. I just hope my agent isn't trying to contact me today. I already blew a pilot audition opportunity because of a dead phone this week!

It was great working with Hedy in Death by Chocolate again, though. I hate this place, but I missed working with Hedy. My manager in Roots is a sweetheart and she adores me, which is nice, and it makes the whole ordeal a lot easier, but I can't be myself around her, obviously. She adores the picture of me that Ana and Hedy painted as my references (lying through their teeth) in order to get me the job; you know, people person, easy-going, great out-going personality, good humoured, etc etc. And when she asked Hedy what I would do when it was quiet, Hedy didn't say, well we usually go for a smoke, have a coffee and do the crossword, she said, ooh, Ida always finds something to do! I mean they went out of their way, stretching their imaginations to their limits, I've no doubt, because not only did my manager fight with the Head Office to have me hired despite going away to Sweden for three weeks over Christmas when no Roots employees are allowed to take any time off, she also fought to raise my pay, so they must have sold me really good. Only problem with that is, of course, now I have to live up to it. Hedy doesn't care, I'm sure, she rather have me work here with her every day instead anyway. But Ana works in Roots on 4th and her job would be on the line if I fucked things up...

No news on the riddance of the little pin cushion or the retrieval of my precious dvds, but Tony has established contact with the girl and communication is, albeit slow, on-going. More on this unfortunate adventure later on.

Dying by Chocolate

I beg your pardon for my recent abscence.. I've been rather under the weather for a while. I think it's stress related, but then all the girls at work are in pretty similar situations, so who knows? Perhaps there is some truth to the "Death" in "Death by Chocolate" after all...

I had my first audition a few days ago. It went horribly. But it was an unpaid gig, so the stakes aren't that high. I think the callbacks were this weekend though, so I think it's safe to say they didn't like me. I'm just keeping my fingers crossed for a teve show after christmas, because that would be a loop hole in the whole being unable to work as an actor on a regular work permit thing. But I shouldn't think about the future. The future doesn't exist yet anyway. But then again neither does the past or the present when you think about it. Well, perhaps the past exists. Or existed. But not anymore, so yeah, it doesn't exist.

Anyway. Spent the entire morning and afternoon with my darling Cesar who finally returned to me from Edmonton. We wasted away in a coffee shop together. Then we walked across the bridge to Davie and I showed him a book store I discovered the other day after my meeting with Danielle, Little Sister's Book Shop, and he was very impressed. We browsed in there for hours. Then on our way back we ran into his family and we all had lunch together in a Greek restaurant, the same Greek restaurant Mark took a group of us to back in the beginning of school. Cesar's family had a blast conversing in Spanish with the waiter who turned out to be Mexican. After lunch Cesar went back to Kits with me so that he could say Hi to Ana and Mike before leaving us again to go to Seattle (today) and then I worked. And work was actually fun for once because I was very hyper until around eleven when I morphed into a zombie. The thing is I never went to bed that morning so by the time I crawled home last night I'd been up for thirty-eight hours. Which is nothing to me when I've insomnia, but usually I'm just at home pottering around, doodling, scribbling, watching movies... not slaving in Death by Chocolate. Everyone is telling me to find another job, but I don't know. Finding a new apartment is time- and energy-wasting enough considering I have next to no time left before I have to toss my world upside-down again..

I'll probably do what feels right, I always do.

Things are looking up

So I had a chat with Tony about our living arrangement and he more or less surprised me by being in full agreement with me when I said I'd had enough and needed to move out. It's definitely a load off my mind to know that we're both on the same page in this and that we're both going to look for new places and go our seperate ways. It's for the best and it will possibly save our friendship, one which is barely existent anymore due to us living together and since we bring out the worst in one another have become resentful toward each other as a result.

Wait, it gets better. The other night I came home from work (this was actually after mine and Tony's chat and I was already in a much better mood than I've been in ages, it feels like.) and noticed that I had a voice mail message (I'd forgotten my mobile at home before going to work that afternoon.) and it was from an agent by the name of Danielle who works for Top Talent and she'd seen the pictures and info I'd uploaded to Casting Workbook that very morning and wanted to meet with me. She also said she'd seen some of my work at VFS, which boggled my mind since none of my work from school has been broadcasted in public or on the web, but as it turned out when I returned her call the next day, she is actually not only an agent but the girlfriend of one of my teachers at VFS.

I met up with her over a cup of coffee in English Bay this morning. She's definitely a sweetheart and according to her she's had her eye on me for a while, asking VFS staff about me and any possible representation I might have because she's been wanting to sign me to her roster for a while. And so today, she did. And I finally have representation. Just like that. I cannot tell you how relieved and excited I am.

The industry is still very slow and I don't expect a lot of auditioning opportunities immediately, but at least I'm moving forward again, and it feels wonderful. Now all I need is Cesar to return to Vancouver so that we can move in together and my life will be almost perfect.

web site

Did I mention that I've updated my website and it looks gorgeous, well, at least compared to what it used to look like, it's got a whole new pretty layout as well as content for the first time ever, so that's worth a look for anyone who's interested? Oh, I did. Alright then.

Well that's all I have time for, I'm afraid. I have to make this brief, because I got a voice mail message from an agent yesterday and I'm just about to go to the bank to deposit my pay check and then I'm going to call her back. I will keep you posted.

The lone ranger

I've tinkered with my website and it looks completely different and actually has content for the first time ever. Real life has been quite insane lately. Or perhaps I'm the insane one, I'm not quite sure. What I am sure of though, is that if things keep going at this rate I might as well chuck my future autobiography and just sit down and write a soap opera pilot instead.

I just talked to my younger brother over msn for the first time in almost a year. He was getting ready for bed. He's almost a decimeter taller than me now, which is rather frightening, because to me he's still a little twit and unable to look down on me... But he's growing up, which is to be expected I suppose. I guess for everyone back home to be frozen in time whilst I'm here is simply too much to ask...

I'm experiencing a lot of chest pains recently, a bullet proof sign that I need to stop fretting and stressing out over things I have no control over and change those I have control over. But it's easier to procrastinate and sulk, as always. The right way isn't the easy way, my friend and co-worker told me and she's right. Well, those two friends I gained in exchange for the one I lost, well it's three lost now and none gained. I'm beginning to think I should just stay away from people.

scraps

I had coffee with my FRIEND Mike two days in a row this week, one of them was actually his coffee with Ana but I barged in on them and made myself comfortable. Furthermore, Ana is worried about me because I am apparently (she´s right) getting depressed and I can´t afford to be at this point in time. So, today after having dropped one package to one agency, instead of the seven I as supposed to originally, I went and got a chamomile tea and a coffee at work and showed up on her doorstep and we discussed her play that she wants my help to write.

I sat with Adam on a park bench and talked for hours about life and death and certain things in between. We´ve also mentioned putting up an art exhibit together in the spring. I mentioned this to Ana and Mike and they seemed eager to participate, so hopefully something like that might happen. I actually painted a bit last night when I couldn´t sleep. Subconscious thought splatters really, but at least I´m being somewhat creative...

On another note, the adventures of Hedy continues, but that´s a different story for a different day when I´m not pressed for time.

yeah.

It's not an easy thing to unravel, or I should say it's not as simple as the word suggests because it's not an explosive endeavour that suddenly grabs a hold of you, but a gradual process of sporadic development.

It's a new day.

This week I might have lost a friend and gained two new friends. That's fair trade, I suppose. We'll see what happens.

I'm on a breaking point right now. Whereever I look there's something unravelling or dissolving around me. It's like seeing your own destruction and resurrection in the world around you and not quite knowing how you feel about it and what side of it to look at and whether the glass you're holding, whilst looking at that person who's sitting awfully close to you but not nearly close enough because you have to keep a distance to them, is half full or half empty or if you should order a refill. Yes. I think that's what I'm trying to say. That's my amateur been reading a lot of Voltaire and Nietzsche lately attempt at philosophical reflection of the day. Life's a barsmaid. Yeah, that's deep as a puddle, isn't it.

Anyway, speaking of Nietzsche... might be having wine with afore-mentioned two new friends tonight since Hedy offered to take my shift, and paint and have deep existentialistic conversations and listen to old blues classics and all that other pretentiousness trademark of the misplaced half of the tele-generation.

I wish I played an instrument.

ship wreck

Ship wrecked she waded where the waves pushed her to
the storm still poking her in the back, the salt water
still clinging to her eye lashes, solidifying into grains of sand
caking her cheeks like a second layer of skin
Any port will do, she told me
But when I went to leave she held on to my wrist
and smiled with uncertainty

what am I doing here?

Following yesterday's cryptic little anecdote-thingy, I've suffered through yet another whirlwind of mind and come out on the other side somewhat refreshed and quite determined.

I am reshaping my future prospects. I lost sight for a while, but now I'm back on track. The upcoming week I'm going to devote all of my energy and focus to getting my headshots printed and paid for, new packages compiled and dropped in agencies with the objective of securing representation so that I can get out there and start auditioning for real. I need to book some gigs and flesh out my resume. I need to decide whether I want to extend my work permit for another year come spring time and be tied to one "proper" full-time employment and unable to act for a year, or whether I should move on to the UK (because I'm not going back to Sweden yet for a while)

Any thoughts from the outside that would like to filter in are much welcomed since I tend to get snowed in with my own thoughts in my head otherwise. I already talked to my best friend Ana about it briefly on the phone this morning, but we need to sit down face to face with tea and coffee respectively and discuss it in depth I think (she's one of the main components in favour of a life continued here in Vancouver as opposed to going back to Europe, after all... her and my other best friend, but he's not in town to be talked to about it at the moment, so...)

The third party that will have to be consulted is my room mate Tony, of course. But he's already proposed to me, so I already know he's thoughts on the matter.

I think I just need to get some perspective. Plus room to breathe for a while so that's I don't succumb to another depressively cynical and hopeless vicious circle; I need to open my windows, so to speak.

cross road.

This week's weather has somewhat mirrored my state of mind. Normally I love the rain and the dark and I didn't work one single night yet this week, but for some reason I burrowed myself down into a depressive blanket and struggled to breathe all week.

I can feel the future at my fingertips.

It's all up to me now.

just a thought

It's twenty to one in the morning and I just got home from work with a large bailey with coffee in my hand and twenty-five dollar in tip money in my bra, I mean pocket, and now I'm here. It's quiet. Still. I was just thinking... what am I doing here, really. I know I'm trying to work my way, baby-stepping along the path to my dreams and so on, but this fear gripped me tonight and I guess I just don't want to come to one of these days and realize that I've been wasting away whilst waiting for my life to begin...

A day for ducks.

I went for a walk in the pouring rain. Went by Rob Daly's photo studio to drop of the check for yesterday's session, which went extremely well, by the way. He had a slight fascination with how my eyes "popped out" (don't worry, he was referring to the eye colour, not literally the eyes themselves.) in the light from the sky and therefore subjected me to the gruesome torture of nearly facing the sun for half of the shoot and I happen to be quite light sensitive and it was killing me. But it was worth it. I had a wicked time with him, he's quite something, such a difference from my first headshots session and I truly hope that'll show in the pictures as well... I get the prints on Friday. I can't wait.

I'm back in the flat now, killing some time before I have to go to work, I was going to do some writing or possibly paint something, but right now I'm enjoying my third cup of coffee for the day. It's the good stuff. The expensive, organic, fair trade, grown in the shade, peruvian coffee beans that I treated myself to last time Tony and I went grocery shopping. Such a difference from the cheap crap we always buy in the large tin jars.

There's a sort of melancholy in the air today. I couldn't be happier, considering I'll be getting new, hopefully beautiful headshots by the end of the week, and it's raining which is always beautiful, and the light filtered from the blanket of clouds is making people glow even though they've turned into themselves and their thoughts. Just walking down the street felt magical. But I feel kind of mellow at the same time. Not quite disconnected but rather pensive, aloof perhaps, tasting the calm before the storm maybe, hoping for a hurricane but not brave enough to ask for one, that kind of thing. If anyone knows what I mean by that...

Well, I should get to it.

headshots

I just talked to Rob Daly on the phone. He said he had an opening tomorrow afternoon! I'd expected him to say sometime next week or the week after that at best, but he can take my headshots tomorrow!

tedious everyday life.

I stayed up to about five o'clock this morning. And was woken up by my boss calling me on my mobile. He said he called the new girl that I'm supposed to train as a barista and told her that she didn't have to come in tonight. And that I could be both server and barista. And then come in and train her on my nights off. I really need to find another job.

I also called around to the agencies where I dropped packages two weeks ago and tried to weasel some feedback out of them. One didn't answer. One had no idea about anything. One said he'd call me back in half an hour.

I need to get new headshots done. I'm going to give Rob Daly a call and set up an appointment for a session as soon as he has an opening.

On a more personal note, I've fallen in love... I'm head over heels in love with this cynical, chain-smoking, wine-drinking, irish comedian... yes. It's Dylan Moran.

Okay. Seriously. Serious matter. Here goes...

I can never fall in love with a real person. It's always someone I can observe from afar. Someone who doesn't get to close to me. But I'd like to change that some day. I'd like to be able to connect. Closely. Be absorbed by another living, breathing, pulsating, smiling, being. Someone who is not a chain-smoking, cynical, wine-drinking Irish comedian whom I've never met in real life, or the triple agent of a teve show, or the feline villain in a comic book, or even a beautiful person of flesh and blood whom I've only encountered on the internet. The closest thing i have right now is an unattainable attraction toward a real life acquaintance. Off limits. Well, go figure the hormons a.k.a. feelings are flowing then... whenever the person get too close i run away, emotionally, and shut myself in my little rib-caged cupboard and yell at them from the other side of the door, go away, i made a mistake, i do apologize, but kindly fuck off now. You know?

I want to be one with another human being without all of that. I want to touch that person and allow them, want them, need them to touch me, and it doesn't have to be sexual, it doesn't have to be all that, just purely, simply, affecting one another. Okay. I want to build a bridge. How's that?

I love you SO MUCH, I want to rip the spine out of your back so that I can move in...

I'm still beating my way through the jungle of Vancouver acting agencies seeking representation, well, I've dropped five packages and I'm still waiting by the phone that doesn't ever ring, basically. I'm intending to get new headshots taken soon and then I will proceed my hunt in the very heart of darkness that is show biz and hopefully, if I'm lucky, I'll land an audition for a one-liner in a commercial, but then I shouldn't set my goals too high, I wouldn't want to be disappointed.

Okay. So that was the cynicism indulgence of my day. Now I'm off to smile for seven hours straight at the generous compensation that is minimum wage. Yes, that's correct. I'm still serving what little on our menues we actually have to the posh population of Kits who have come to complain about dreadful standards of Death by Chocolate. But I'm not yet dead. I think that's a bright-ish side of things.

I had three days off in the beginning of this week, however, and I was in heaven. Or at least a very comfy place. I lit a candle, opened a bottle of red and wrote the second draft of my swedish novel which has been lying useless on my USB drive for almost a year and a half now. I was very pleased with myself.

I have also discovered Dylan Moran's comedic genius. (The title of this entry is actually one of his many, many brilliant quotes.) And life is good.

blue flowers.

I have been landed with a (probably psycho-somatic) head cold, this previous weekend I was running an on-and-off fever, which is always a lot of fun...

On Friday we had the screening of our Larry Kent scenes. I was quite nervous about that to say the least, but of course, in the end, it didn't match to anywhere near my worst-case-scenario mental images, so even though I wasn't entirely pleased with it, also to say the least, I was pleasantly surprised by how brief and harmless the sex scene was and how ridiculous the slashing of wrists were and how little you could actually see of my face due to a large amount of black-dyed hair was in it. So overall not too bad an experience.

Earlier in the week Gill gave me and Tony the number of her new landlord and we called her in between scenes (we were filming Gill's film last week, our second and last location shoot) and had a meeting/viewing scheduled for the end of the end of the day, and after the viewing we paid the security deposit and the place is ours; finding and securing a place has been nowhere near as painless a process as this for either of us in the past and we were rather shocked by the time we walked away from the place and the realization of how much we grew up in the span of that day came crashing down on us. I'm really excited about our new place, although I'll severely miss living with Cesar. To be honest I'd expected Cesar and I to drive each other up the walls within the first week of living together, especially in such a limited amount of space, but I can't even picture living without him now. It's us. We belong together, not apart. We compliment each other, bicker though we may, and him and Josh better get a place fairly close to ours if they end up living together after school.

Also, I'm -- well, we're -- getting a kitten, hopefully! We haven't really looked for one yet cause we don't move in until the first of April and even after that we must prioritize furnishing the place, getting head shots taken, filming our second scenes for the promo reels, working on the musical and graduating and all that stuff before we can start worrying about pets... yeah, I almost had myself convinced with that one, but no... as soon as we're in, I'm getting a kitten!

Oh, and in regards to the title of this entry, I bought some really cool blue and green flowers the other day, I was going to give them to Gill in case me and Tony ended up going over to her place for a visit, cause we've been talking about going over to meet her kitten and just hang out and stuff, but we didn't end up going that day, and also my fever got worse so I went home... but the flowers are now in mine and Cesar's apartment, two in a bottle of Cabernet Savignon and one alone in a bottle of Shiraz...

rooms.

I paused by the curb of the pavement, put the cigarette to my mouth and inhaled deeply, the afternoon gloom of the sky around me seemed to waver and trickle down over the City exterior, as a tinted filter over a photograph; a flutter of unease grazed the inside of my skin; I caught the abiding presence of my two friends in my peripheral and an overwhelming urge to wander off in my ribcage. It catches up to me every so often, sooner or later, this silly desire to get lost.

I took another few steps, still uncertain, crossed the street and felt my friends follow. I eyed the familiar windows of the used books' store on Richard's and Pender and did my best to ignore the absurd want to climb out of my skin that welled up inside of me; my two friends, meanwhile, lingered loyally like trusting ducklings nearby, nearly too close, but not quite.

"So what do you want to do?" one, or both, of them asked.

"I want to eat breakfast", I replied and crossed the street again and started walking towards "Smile's diner" where they do in fact serve breakfast all day.

Am I narcissistic? I don't mean to be. I never intend to be self-absorbed, no-one bores me as much as myself, but I think I might be. Ana Marie says there is a line around me that no-one can cross, not even her, she says she literally feels it and not even she knows what this line is. She says I protect myself, I never meet anyone halfway, just wait for them to come to me because that's what I'm used to, and I never put myself on the line. I like to play with fire, I like the danger of getting burnt, but I never burn, I run back behind my line before the flames have a chance to lick me. Isn't that horrible.

Like the night before when I left my friends and joined Patrick and James instead who were going to get pizza before meeting up with the others again at some other pub, and I walked with them and talked occasionally but listened to them mostly, and when we got to the pizza place I paused and smoked a cigarette (that was sub-conscious test no. one), they didn't wait for me but went inside and ordered their pizza slices. So what did I do? I wandered off down the street, not too far, but far enough so that they couldn't see me if they looked out the window. I lit another smoke and sat on the ground and waited. Neither of them came looking. Tony called me though, wondering where I was and said he'd come meet up with me when I told him. I watched Patrick and James come out of the pizza place, did nothing to make my presence known, and realized quickly that they had forgot about me as they started walking away in the opposite direction. And that's why I spent the rest of the night hanging out with Tony. Because I always wait for you to come to me, and if you don't, you're not in my life. Black or white, always. So limiting. I hate it. I want to meet you half-way, I want to burn again, I really do, I just don't know how anymore.

Nathan got me and Cesar tickets for the ballet last night. "Sleeping Beauty" performed by the Royal Winnipeg Company. Nathan turned out to be a lot less mysterious, interesting and dangerous as I had thought, and I figured him out almost instantly, which was a disappointment since I expected him to be a match for me, but nontheless, he's still a cool and kindhearted guy, when it suits him, and I still have some quite entertaining conversations with him (this all said with "love" and in good fun, of course!)

Cesar and I were appallingly out of place, which was rather funny truth be told, amongst the straight-backed, high-heeled, dolled-up ballet-goers in our worn-out jeans and sweatshirts, and I promised Cesar that the next time we go to the ballet wh shall be very much dressed to the nines and make the most glorious of entrances, very much like this middle-aged lady we saw there, a black and white gown swept around her and wearing something frilly on her head which appeared to be the love-child of a mourning veil and wedding cake.

I am quite out of my mind today. Not in a destructive or negative way at all, in fact I feel quite creative, only a bit confused, my mind is racing and I have have decided to sit back and watch it go, I have also written a list of small, important, things. Writing lists, is one of them. It's funny, I've realized today that the things that keep us sane are the things that keep us insane. Undoubtedly. Black candles, another thing on my list. I like black candles.

I've been thinking a lot about rooms lately as well.

The Meaning of Love : Deleted Scenes

improved scenes that didn't make the cut, mostly brett goofing around.

The Meaning of Love (Part 1 of 2)

a student short film i participated in for the 48 hour film festival at vfs.

just breathe

This year has been such an emotional rollercoaster so far that almost feel numb now. But I'm on top of the school work and despite having the script to worry about/work on, the issue with my stolen goods, a lot more homework, upcoming auditions for the location shoots on thursday as well as the monologue competition on friday, I still feel like I'm keeping on top of things, I don't feel like I'm drowning at all, yet, which is good I suppose. In fact I was walking home after the monologue competition coaching with Jim Bates last night at around half past nine, and I could physically sense all these things that are looming over me, threaten to cave in, but I just focused on my breathing and it kept them at bay, and then I noticed how beautiful the clouds were against the night sky.

We just had singing class and sang one of the group songs for the first time, and although I thought the song seemed extremely boring when I read through it, it was actually quite fun. It's called "An Old-fashioned Wedding" and in the third chorus the guys and the girls sing their respective choruses at the same time, completely overlapping each other, and it was really cool. Even though there were only the three of us (Gillian was none present today for some reason) and way too many of them. I still think we managed to get our point across. My favourite line: "Love and honor, yes, but not obey..."

I also had some revelation in singing class today, well I had two, and that was that my body instinctively shuts down when I partner with just one person whereas I feel completely free and in my body when I'm engaging with the entire group now, and today I tapped into that and discovered that I was afraid. And it struck me that I feel that I have to give that person my all, more than I have to give, and I, not only lose myself completely, but I also feel extremely pressured. And then I realized that I'm like that in my private life too, and that's why my social life is quite fucked, and why I feel like I don't have any friends but lots of people have me as their friend, that's why. And I told Alisa, not about my social life, but about the singing, and she gave me some good support and advice and basically told me that no-one else is my responsibility, I can only be responsible for myself, and that makes complete sense, and I know that, but at this point I'm obviously acting on instince, not intellectually. But now that I am aware of this, I can work with it. Not against it, but with it.

The other things is that the connection between the resonators in your body and the support in your lowest resonator (your gut) all made sense to me. My voice teacher in theatre school nor Mikal Grant managed to get that through my thick head, apparantly, because when Alisa explained it to me today the pieces all just fell into place...

tequila rose and other unfortunates

my first meeting with nathaniel geary, the director, went fantastic. we met up in this cozy coffee shop and had an immediate connection. when we were discussing my script i could tell we were on the same page. i am so looking forward to working with him now. we start filming in a month and i have a lot of work to do on my script. plus i'm auditioning for tequila rose.

last night was a surreal nightmare. i went for dinner at earl's after school with cesar and sarah and when we got up to pay the bill and leave, my backpack had completely disappeared from its spot on the floor next to my chair. we hadn't seen anyone even walking by that side of the table and we never left it, we sat there the entire time and we didn't see anything. that backpack contained my laptop, my wallet with my visa card, all my homework and papers from school, basically my entire life. the waitresses were really nice and said it was probably some misunderstanding, they took down my information and said they'd give me a call if it showed up at the end of the night.

me and cesar went home. i logged onto my bank's website to cancel my credit card, just in case. and as i checked my account i discovered that huge amounts money were being withdrawn from it at that very minute. within an hour of losing my bag, i'd lost next to $3000 from my savings account. i phoned the police and reported it stolen, they were very unhelpful, then me and cesar tried to call the bank in sweden to cancel my card, but his phone wouldn't allow international calls, so we ran down lonsdale from gas station to gas station trying to find a international calling card. we finally did and i called the bank from a pay phone and cancelled my card.

i emailed nathaniel and asked him to email me back my script, which he just did, so that i can work on the script which needs to be rewritten by monday. tony said he'd help me contact dell on monday, because according to him they have tracking devices on their computers... i'm trying to stay positive despite my glass being as always half empty...

collecting myself

Back home. The light filtered through the clouds outside and the plastic blinds covering the windows is a mixture of brass and amber. Cesar is watching the first season of "Will and Grace" on DVD and I am collecting myself. Nearly done. For a moment I thought I was going insane and I was set on getting an appointment with a psychiatrist the minute I got back to Vancouver, but another ride through Hell (the flight over here) and a night in "my own bed" (read: Cesar's bed) I feel a bit better. I rang that director guy, Nathaniel Geary, this afternoon and he said he was going to email me with a time and place for us to meet tomorrow. I'm kind of nervous. But it's good to be back in business at least, I think that's the only way I can keep depression and insanity off my door step, work work work; keep that inspiration and creativty flowing.

2008, stained with red wine and anxiety and excitement, as always,

So, this is 2008. Looks rather the same to me.

We finally got some snow over here, and by some I mean the tiniest layer you could possibly imagine before it classifies as frost, just in time for the new year. I went into town and celebrated the event with a few friends of mine, and by friends i mean my one best friend and friends of his plus my darling girlfriend, and by girlfriend I unfortunately mean a friend who happens to be of the female persuasion. Every "living" soul in town, with exception for me and Fredde, felt the need to gather at the town square to listen to some wanker sing and then recite the new year speech. (I use the term "living" very loosely here, because the sight of this mass of people streaming toward the square from all directions, at a steady pace as though in a trans, hypnotized by the music, it really reminded us of a zombie movie.) They all then stare up into the sky at the fireworks financed by the very same gathering's tax money. Me and Fredde accompanied our friends to the square but decided to remain on the other side of the small river running through the town and, lounging against a streetlamp, chain smoked and mocked before-mentioned gathering like there was no tomorrow. The gathering proceeded to bombard us with fireworks by paying their taxes a year or so in advance, but our sarcasm and the fact that there was almost no tomorrow spurred us on and we prevailed.

When our, and by our I mean mostly Fredde's, friends decided to throw tradition to the wind and leave the square and go and get properly smashed in one of our local pubs, our spirits rose considerably. I stuck to red wine all night and stayed romantically tipsy and it went no further than that.

I don't know what part of me is the biggest right now and if the future year or the future in general frightens or excites me, possibly both at the same time with me being quite self-destructive in nature and a bit of a closet adrenaline junkie, but I suppose it doesn't really matter at the end of the day, because the future keeps looming over me either way and I can either try and hide from it, follow its flow, or try and create it as I go along.