Muddy waters

It's interesting how differently we can see things from one minute to the next. I've been playing a rediculous amount of solitaire on my iphone over the past few months. In the middle of playing a game I will get stumped, no other moves. So I close the screen and do something else. The next time I pop the game open to play again, all of a sudden I see a move, it's right there staring me in the face. I end up playing for a bit longer, then lose, or I win the game.

Why hadn't I seen that move 5 minutes ago, or 3 hours before when it was right in front of me.
This is a very basic thought, I realise, but it has me thinking about things...you can associate this example in so many situations that you encounter on a daily basis.

Why can't we see things in that moment, and then later on it appears to us, so clearly. For example, in the heat of anger, we can think what are feeling or what we are saying is completely valid, true or real. Then when the moment passes, sometimes, it's like SHIT, what was I thinking? You feel so stupid sometimes when you realise that you were absolutely wrong, but at that very moment, you were so right, what you thought was the truth, or the only way, was indisputable.

So I ask myself, how is it that sometimes we are able to see things so clearly and other times the water is just so god damn murky?

Any day now, mark my words!

Alright, so I have been busy these days, hanging out with friends and enjoying crazy long walks in the sun (alone) on Bloor street, listening to music and thinking about life.

Some thoughts at the moment, I still think there are some good people left in the world. A lot of super hardcore messed up folks, but I haven't lost it yet, my faith in humanity that is.

There have been, however, many events (minor) that have occured over the past year that have made me a wee bit pessimistic, and somewhat bitter. Usually, I am to some extent, naive about the ability of others to lie to your face, stab you in the back, treat you like crap and use you to get what they want, and I know that some people are straight up evil. I trust people though, and I'm usually not under the assumption that they could do anything mean. I have been wrong, many times, but I continue to trust, I've just become a little more guarded and realise that everyone has that potential....for good or bad.

I'm not talking about everyone here, sheesh, I'm just thinking about a few things I have experienced this past year. I don't hold a grudge. And if something bad were to happen tomorrow, I know that by next week I will have put it behind me and I won't let it cloud my judgement.

As a wise man once said, "all things must pass!"

Dishsoap memories!

While reading Erinne's most recent blog post it got me to thinking, it's amazing how scents can bring back long lost memories. These type of situations happen to me all the time. Funny thing is if i sit and try to remember what it felt like to be 21 (for example)or if I try to remember what I was like at 21 or what I was up to at 21, I have very vague memories. I sometimes try to think back to when I was 18 and I got my very first apartment with my boyfriend Geoff, I have very few memories of that year. I don't remember what it felt like living there, or what I did on a daily basis, maybe I'm trying to think about too many details. I don't know.
I'm going nowhere with this, but my point is, sometimes it just takes a scent or a song to bring back all of these memories that I can never think of no matter how hard I try.

Here is Erinne's post:

I don't think that I have ever read a book of poetry in my life. I can see how other people dig it, but, I have never been particularly struck by anything except music lyrics. Of all things, I was reading Glamour magazine when I came across this wee poem (and I cannot WAIT to go out and by both of the poet's books):

The Past Is Still There by Deborah Garrison

I've forgotten so much.
What it felt like back then,
what we said to each other.

But sometimes when I'm standing
at the kitchen counter after dinner
and I look out the window at the dark

thinking of nothing,
something swims up.
Tonight this:

your laughing into my mouth
as you were trying
to kiss me.

The above work is included in Deborah Garrison's newest publication The Second Child.

And this is my reply to her post:

Fuckin' wicked e. I have these bizarre moments myself.
If only I could write them down like she did.
I recently bought this dish soap and as I did my dishes for the first time with the new soap, it brought me back to my apartment with my ex Jeremy, the scent reminded me of us, washing dishes together.
It was quite the memory. It's amazing how a scent can kick you back to 6 years ago.
The next day I brought the soap to work, so I wouldn't have to be reminded of him....