I've taken to the night-life again, seeing it's the only time I feel alright. That isn't a huge problem seeing I could do without the dreams lately. Thus, I'm not terribly fond of sleeping.
I do find myself struggling to keep awake during key-times throughout the day though. Crazy as it sounds, I do wake up from a lucid state sitting at the computer once and a while. I wouldn't say it's a problem yet. Even if I do take short naps when I allow myself it's still better than the slumber that would drag on for hours in the past.
I haven't been in a talking mood, and I guess a writing one either (seeing I haven't posted as often). It's a shame really, since it frees the soul. My connecting with people isn't common these days, unfortunately. I've been quite the recluse.
Anyway... I'm not sleepy now, so I guess I'll enjoy the decent head-space while I can. Even if it is at this late hour.
I've been staring at a mess for days waiting my moodiness out. I think I'll finally go and wash that sink full of dishes.
Growing up with my sis we really had some memorable moments, especially comical ones.
She always cracks me up...
just read her latest entry, 'Them polyester pants'.
TOO FUNNY!
Imagine my surprise when I woke up this morning and felt like I'd spent a few hours in the fridge. My significant other and I were tucked inside a quilt like two pigs in a blanket (except no toasty wienies here).
I shivered my way to the source and scuttled down the hall. I flicked; on the light switch for some illuminated guidance. Oddly, I was faced with the absence of light. So distracted from my initial task II went to checked the breaker box. Nothing had been tripped. Lovely. We had just brought someone in who fixed some electrical problems just the day before!
Brrr! I trembled, very perplexed. Then my attention flips over back to the lack of heat. I turned the temperature up assuming the morning hours had become more frigid due to weather. I then slipped back into bed, scootching my feet in the warm pocket that had been left from beneath my dog's tummy.
*Blink Blink*
Dang! Now I was fully awake. Thus I couldn't help but be a ware that the usually audible pilot light click was missing. I knew then that the furnace was NOT going to kick in.
Back to the thermostat I went, to fidget with the slider switch much like how a person lifts the hood of their broken down car only to stare confused at the heap of engine parts. I had no idea how to fix it.
Bring in yesterdays cavalry and much thumping around we now have a temporary cord juicing the contraption. At least we won't freeze over the next few days until the handyman can come back.
This morning has been a mess of surprises I could do without... Like how strangely my kitchen is now less a coat closet due to this fiasco. Dear BF is in charge of the situation knowing the grim details, but I'm NOT ASKING.
Finally, I started painting again! It's been such a long time since I'd done anything creative. My confidence was so low I wouldn't even let myself doodle for the longest time.
I spent a lot of time mourning over long ago strife with my art. The hardest part was living with the knowledge that art was everything I ever was, that I had let it all slip through my fingers and drop. Coming to terms with the fact that I wasn't living some life-long sentence of artistic hell, that I was actually on hiatus, THAT was taxing.
There is a lot of baggage that comes with creativity. If it isn't yourself, then it's society condemning it's worth. If you know anyone pursuing an artistic life, know how difficult it really is. Putting your heart out there for the world to see, endlessly judged on every nuance. That's a heavy cross to bare.
Sometimes it's the little things that make you fold. Want to give it up and slink away. The monotony of comments from strangers or family can be overwhelming. I guess what I'm trying to say is talent can feel like a disfigurement if it isn't appreciated. Art needs more nurturing and less prejudice.
Be inspired.
Value self expression.
Keep in touch with your creative side... We are all gifted.
Picture: Wet Paint ©1930 SEPS: Licensed by Curtis Publishing, Indianapolis, IN
I held off posting this entry because I was afraid my feathers getting ruffled was my own problem... But alas, I'll take a go at being ballsey and put it up anyway!...
I've been trying to decide which direction I should take with this blog entry. Do I dig my talons into a ratty U.S. judge or the shit-for-brains law makers right here in my beloved country Canada?
If you haven't heard, a Buffalo, N.Y., teacher has been convicted of having sex with his 15-year old student. The judge's unprecedented ruling offered the offender a chance to avoid a one-year jail sentence by accepting a three-year exile to Canada.
WTF? Since when did we become an easy out for dealing with pedophiles in the U.S. judicial and penal system? Are we an opportunity to save U.S. citizens tax dollars from being spent building jails and funding rehabilitation programs? Also, since when does a criminal afford a choice on how he serves his sentence?
Being banished to Canada isn't a punishment by any means given our free healthcare and absolute rediculous age of consent at a measly 14 (except when being in a position of trust, making it criminal). Being free to reside in the country that is home to his wife and children doesn't seem like such a deprivation.
Out of sight and out of mind is a corrupt attitude towards discipline. It's about time for everyone to be accountable for their actions, or lack of action.
Otherwise, in the end, suffer the children as it is they who and pay the price.
Anyway... I'm not sleepy now, so I guess I'll enjoy the decent head-space while I can. Even if it is at this late hour. 
