On the right night with the right mood, I don't think anything gets me going like a good ghost story. They play so heavily on what we as a society have the least understanding of, death. Death hangs heavily over all of us, it's inescapable, it is the one thing that we all have in common. I know that a lot of people don't believe in ghosts, but I'm a pretty firm believer in them. For as long as I've remembered, I've always felt like there was more to the world than just what we can see.
My earliest experience with ghosts occurred when I was young, maybe two or three. There is a cemetery just outside Sydney where a lot of my mother's family is buried, including her father. On this particular day my mother had taken me with her to visit her father, my grandfather's, grave. As young children often do, I wandered away from my mother, walking through the cemetery and eventually stopping next to a tree. When my mother caught up with me and asked what I was doing, my response was "that lady said she was my grandmother."
Sure enough, I was standing adjacent to the grave of my great-great grandmother.
My younger brother had similar experiences around the same age, waving to graveyards as we passed them in the car, and saying hello to the "people he saw".
In my parents house in Cole Harbour we have all had similar experiences centering around a ghost in the house. My first time encountering this was late 2005. I was watching a movie on TV late one night, when the TV speakers started making that noise they do when cell phones are about to ring. Immediately I prepared myself to answer the soon-to-be-ringing phone, but alas, no ring was heard. Immediately there after, the MP3 player across the room from me turned itself on. The next morning I casually told my mother about the nigthts occurrences, her response was super creepy. It turned out that at the same time that night, the alarm clock in her room went off and had to be physically unplugged to turn off.
As the years passed in our sleepy suburban home, the ghost made itself more and more apparent. My mother has seen a person walking at night in the hallway between bedrooms, my father has noticed things moved out of place when nobody was around to move them, and most noticably, my sister and myself watched as our dining room table shook itself violently.
Ghosts are scary.
This is scary too
Dear readers, share your favorite ghost stories with me, I love this stuff!
We're fast approaching the end of the year, a time of reflection and resolution. As such I find myself reflecting heavily on the past twelve months. I'm noticing that out of say the last five years of my life, this past one has been the least progressive. I have not by any stretch had a bad year, it's been pretty great, the problem has been the lack of personal growth on my part. I am the exact same person right now as I was twelve months ago, the difference being last year I was in school and actually had something to look forward to. I find now though that everything I was holding out on has come and past and fell by the wayside, and I've got nothing to show for anything.
I have nothing against hanging out and going to shows, but I'm worried that those two things, coupled with a series of dead end jobs are going to become my entire life. I'm already entirely sick of being broke and hungry and worried, and don't think I can take it for much longer. No matter how frugal and cheap I behave, I still manage to just barely scrape by paycheck to paycheck, I feel just about as low as I ever have. I'm sure there is more to life than what I'm doing, but I haven't found it yet.
The worst part of all of this is that I know it's entirely my fault, I have no ambition or drive whatsoever, I'm perfectly comfortable leaving bad enough alone. I feel better being miserable and comfortable than I do being happy and new to something.
New things scare me, routine routine routine.
Ultimately this boils down to my single biggest regret of my young adult life: dropping out of school. I'd be into my third year of a bachelor's degree if I hadn't jumped ship, instead I'm working a shit lousy retail job and staying in bed whenever I don't have to be there. That one poor choice has left me completely unemployable. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
It's nearing the end of pop explosion, the most enjoyable, exhausting, crazy week of most years, this year being made extra special by the fact that it was preceded by seeing Bane twice (fuck). So far this week I've seen GZA come down from the stage and perform in the middle of a massive audience; I've watched sweaty Israeli dudes turn Agricola street into a circus; and I've been blown away by familiar faces (hey Horses, keep on keeping on). Tomorrow is the end, I'm going to try and make it to five different shows (ugh). My body hurts.
As a result of late and cold nights I'm on the hurtin' end of a pretty nasty cold, it's totally worth it though.
Big wet bottle in my fist, big wet rose in my teeth I'm perfect piece of ass Like every Californian So tall I take over the street, with highbeams shining on my back A wingspan unbelievable I'm a festival, I'm a parade
Watched Hocus Pocus with Ryan tonight, this was a good thing. I think it's a good start to the coming weeks. This weekend I'm going pumpkin picking in Mahone bay, a trip that promises to be full of fall colors and rural thrift stores.
Next week is packed from start to finish with amazing shows, Bane, Jay Reatard, The Inbreds, Brutal Knights, Islands, GZA, Horses and so on and so forth, oh god oh god, so excited. I'm glad this is a three pay month because I'm going to be broke as shit.
I think I realized that life is all how I take it, no use moping around feeling sorry for myself. I've got to take things as they come and try to make the best with what I'm handed.
Feeling good about life right now, keep on rocking planet earth.
2008 has been one big regret after another. I need to learn when and when not to keep my mouth shut.
This is to to be expected though, some things are bound to be.
I want to get into shape, not great shape, just some semblance of. If I could lose like 6-8lbs a month over the next few months I'd be doing pretty okay. I've been on this downward spiral of putting the absolute worst kind of crap into my body, and it really just needs to end. I'd rather not die fat and alone. Doughy and alone would be cool though.
Sometimes when I see traits in people that remind me of myself I react naturally by harboring resentment towards them. This is probably the worst thing I do. This reaction is most evident when dealing with people who are older than me. I see things in them that I fear will one day be a part of me. I've spent more time worrying about what I'm not going to be that I have trying to better myself.
I got a chair today, it rules, sitting rules,
I want to go pumpkin picking this weekend, get rural and what have you.
In light of the wayward oven, the normal festive meal was replaced by Swiss Chalet, this was not so much a disappointment, nor was it a pleasant surprise, it simply was. Spending time with my brother and sister makes me really homesick, anyone reading this who has lived with young kids knows how amazing it is to see them experience things for the first time.
We spent some time playing with my computer's camera and the corresponding software.
Those few hours chased away the blahs for sure.
On the drive home I noticed for the first time how early it's getting dark out, this happens every year but almost always knocks the wind out of my sails. The letdowns you can't escape always sting the most.
I had Thanksgiving last night with my friends, something I'd like to see become an annual event. It was a heartwarming little get together made whole by cheap wine and cheap laughs. The evening was rounded out with a screening of the Born to Run DVD, discussions of Brian Wilson and shirtless wonders. I'm driving to Cole Harbour right now, sitting square in the backseat of my grandparent's van. My parent's oven suffered a breakdown today, meaning no turkey. I had a dream last night that involved my mom getting hurt, I think it may have been a premonition, in regards to the broken oven.
It's getting colder now and darker, and awesomer. For the first time this season I had to force myself to get out of the shower, it's pretty cold in our house now. Fall is a different animal than the rest of the year, everything has an urgency to it, I think it's probably some sort of instinct forcing us to get things done with before winter, I don't really know though, I'm not a scientist.
There has been a guy playing jazz guitar in the evenings across the street from my work the last week or so, it's been pretty great. Something about walking around downtown at dusk with that kind of soundtrack backing you is radical.
My mother called to ask if I wanted to go on vacation with them in March, I said that my life was too up in the air to commit to it, so no. This was either the most or the least adult thing I've done so far, I just can't tell.
I just realized that there may actually be people who read this, an exciting development in my life as a "blogger", I am now self aware.
This weekend was awesome, I managed to get my room in tip top shape, everything is as it should be. I'm currently however on the lookout for a small comfy chair in which I can nestle in the corner...I'll come up with some pictures tomorrow.
We (myself, Robyn, Amir, Lindsay, Zane, Alex, Lachlan, Ryan, Kate, Kara, Trainor and Emily) also went to the Riverbreeze Hunted corn maze in Truro. It was pretty fun, super scary, but really deep down genuinely fun. There are long stretches of dark buildings and people chase you with chainsaws and it's super awesome. I don't have any real photos of it, but these will give you a pretty AWESOME idea of what it was like.
Next weekend is Thanksgiving, I'm having dinner at my apartment on Saturday, I'm very very excited and will be preparing some tasty treats for all to enjoy.
I've been thinking a lot about the changing of the seasons, it's easy to get preoccupied with things you have no control over. Fall is a false sense of security, it's a warm thought on a cold day. It's the first time you feel guilty for hogging the blankets, and the last time you felt sorry for sleeping alone. It's your first walk in that new jacket, lapels turned in, cuffs cuffed, zipped to the chin. It's the grays of the city blending with the grays of the sky. The days get shorter, yet somehow feel longer than they ever have. It's that old sinking feeling rising up through the sewer grates.