April 1st, 2005

everything you need to know about relationships
(according to a Gemini with her moon in Aquarius)

The most significant part of a relationship is always the break-up. If you're smart you'll spend as much time preparing for the end as you do fucking. If a relationship is going to end it has GOT to end in as interesting of a manner as possible. It's your job to ensure that it does. This is especially important if you are a person who has a livejournal or are the type of drunk who likes to tell stories - I happen to be both of these things.

A common post-break-up experience is the getting-back of your stuff. If you're sensitive and don't think you can handle seeing your ex ever again, try to live out of a backpack so that you won't leave anything at their home that you would miss. There is a stone on a very high mountain in some exotic place (like Alberta) that has the phrase "The one time you forget something of importance at his house is the time you're most likely to break-up" carved into it. Take this to heart.

Upon breaking-up take a mental (no, forget mental - go literal, here. grab a pen and a sharpie) inventory of your stuff. What is missing, and is it at his house? Do you need it back?

If it's just your toothbrush, shampoo, or moisturizer that you've forgotten there - forget them. He's probably cleaned the toilet with your toothbrush, pissed in your shampoo, and spat in your moisturizer by now. And if he hasn't - he'll be sure to do it before he gives it back to you.

Aside from hygiene products, the most frequent item left at the house of an ex is your underwear. Run - don't walk - to your underwear drawer and make sure that you still have the pink polka-dotted boy-cuts with the poodle on the ass that you insist upon wearing with your marilyn poodle sweater while carrying your poodle handbag. If you can't find them - you know they're in his dirty clothes hamper and that you're fucked.

You MUST get these underwear back. It's fucking imperative. The time for vigilance is upon you.

You don't want him to have your underwear for various reasons. He might wear them on his head. Or throw them out. Or you might not have underwear that match your favourite sweater and handbag anymore - this is the worst of all possible scenarios.

If you are smart/insane you had a back-up plan in place ever since the second night you stayed over at his apartment. There should be a self-addressed stamped envelope hidden in his room somewhere sneaky. Now is the time to give him directions to this envelope so he can mail you your underwear back. Otherwise, make a mental note to do this the next time you get yourself into a relationship.

There are several ways to go about getting your stuff back. You could have a very hot Butch friend go pick it up for you. You could call him and insist that he drop your underwear off at your place of work.

Bonus points if you both have cellular phones so that you can send a scathing text message like "Please mail me my stuff back. I will PayPal you the shipping costs."

Of course, you could arrange a neutral meeting place for said exchange - but beware the temptation to display any sort of emotion. Be sure to wear your best outfit and smell/look/act better than you ever did during the course of your relationship. You are far too cool to care about things like history. Treat this as a business transaction. You get your underwear. He gets one last look. Everybody wins.

January 7th, 2005

If I were to write a personals advert it would read as follows:

About Me

I'm honest. And because I'm honest I'm going to go ahead and tell you that I'm Space Queen from the World of Walls. I don't do codependent. I don't do talking on the phone every night about "you're so cute, no YOU are so cute". I don't do living together or meeting your parents or wearing your letterman's sweater.

Well! Now that that's out in the open! I'll tell you a bit about what I do...do.

I read, a lot. Mostly fiction with a political or social commentary bent. I like Aldous Huxley and if he wasn't so dead/British I'd probably want to fuck him. I like to talk about what I read and I'll ask you what you've been reading so if you're not someone who can answer the "read any good books lately?" question you probably don't want to talk to me anyway.

I'm nerdy. I like to take stuff apart (my DVD player, my telephone, more recently my computer, furniture) and put it back together again. I like Harry Potter and the Lord of the Rings (the books are better than the movies), faeries, and astrology. I honestly DO enjoy board games and I'll kick your ass at Simpsons Clue every single time, so be warned.

I'm also dreadfully sarcastic, realistically pessimistic, and a terrible speller. But I'll make you laugh and keep you guessing so at least I'm not boring, am I wrong?

Looking for

I'd like to meet someone who isn't too crazy to admit that they're crazy, who isn't too fucked up to realize that they're fucked up, who isn't too cool to actually BE cool.

Someone who can laugh at themself. Someone with the balls to call me on my shit but the heart not to do it in public.

Someone who likes the Smiths, Harry Potter, used record stores, and the musty-dusty way that books smell.

Someone within reasonable distance from Toronto. Someone with something to say. Someone who walks that perfect line between being serious and not taking everything so goddamn seriously all the time.

Someone who probably doesn't exist. I triple-dog-dare you

authors note: hahahahahah!

April 26th, 2004

in the spaces between waking and sleeping
and between shoulder blades
i feel softly
the ghost of warm lips
shocking against cool flesh

always i pull closer my blankets
and wish for sleep
or for you