running returning

I'm going to stay put.

Or at least, I'm not going to think about leaving. The past week has really convinced me to stay in this city and not flee back home. I went to Canzine and learned about starting a distro. A guy named Tim asked me to illustrate some of his wheatpasted posters. I went to a meeting with the comics collective I recently became a part of and we all drew pictures of each other and planned the upcoming launch party. My friend Tyler sent me a message asking if V and I wanted to go over and play Settlers of Catan on thursday.

--> Sidenote: Tyler and I met on the 196 Express Bus. He was facing away from me, wearing a Turning the Tide bunnyhug (Turning the Tide = revolutionary bookstore in Saskatoon). Immediately, I thought "Oh my gosh. We have to be friends." When he turned around, I recognized his face because I went to his thesis-defense-afterparty with Meagan W. That week he came over for political discourse and vegan chocolate chip cookies. He is our PhD-seeking, married, real-life-living friend.

So really, what I'm trying to say is...I feel like I'm falling into place here.
I'd like to stay.

hmm.

I wish I had a scanner or a digital camera so I could show you guys the more interesting facets of my life, like:
-the amazing pie I made last week
-the excellent loot I got from Canzine (some for free!)
-the drawings I'm making

I even trekked down to the library on Pape the other day (and by trek, I do mean a 15 minute walk...) in search of a scanner. No such luck. My sister informs me that Robarts has excellent scanners, so I guess I'll have to venture over there this weekend.

You know what else I wish?
I wish that I had super cool stories to impart to you, my small readership. In all actuality, my life has been relatively normal, other than kind of horrifying financial problems (which I mention constantly, because I have this stupid idea that by talking about them, it'll diminish the gravity of the situation). I've been slacking off at school, as per usual, and working my shifts at the medical clinic. The rest of my time is allotted to drawing, cooking delicious vegan dinners or studying with V, baking, knitting, and occasionally hanging out with *gasp* friends!

Yesterday I was hanging out with my friend Chris and his brother Rob, and Rob actually physically injured himself mocking Coldplay's performance on SNL. Seriously. I wish I could describe it in its full glory, but I cannot (p.s. the rest of the visit basically consisted of watching Rob re-enact every episode ever of South Park).

Lately I've been feeling a bit more conviction about being a vegan. Not that I was cheating before or anything, but I recently read some fucking awful stuff about factory farming and my disgust is kind of renewed. Seriously? Overfeeding pigs and chickens and cows until their legs break under their enormous weight?
--> anyone who says eating meat is natural should go for a little tour of a corporate farm. unless you're hunting your own wild game, there's nothing 'natural' about it.
(and p.s. guns aren't exactly natural either)

I don't want people to brand me as "that cranky vegan bitch", but seriously? Seriously.

(P.S. Don't worry, I still think PETA is fucking stupid. Anyone who compares anything to the Holocaust repeatedly and without realizing their error = moronic.)

Oh, and...

V and I were studying (she was reading about greenwashing; i was reading about the industrial revolution) and we kept reading passages out loud to one another. Basically, it resulted in an evaluation of how capitalism has repeatedly made our lives miserable. My current complaint: dear capitalism, thanks for making me hate my body and spend years of my life feeling you owned my very being.

Oh, except that anxiety disorders and eating disorders and any sort of ailment of the mind is clearly the result of chemical imbalances. That's why so many places other than the Western world have these problems!!

Quitting before I get too steamed and ridiculous,
c.

fuck starbucks

Today, conversing with my dear friend from home, Chris G, I was informed of a truly upsetting fact: The Living Room, one of my favourite coffee shops in Saskatoon, has closed down after a few years of struggling to compete with a Starbucks that had moved in two doors down from them.

The Living Room was located on my favourite street in the city, very close to the house I grew up in. It's been a fixture of my life for long enough that I can't remember when I started frequenting it. As I got older, the atmosphere became a little more formal, but for a long time the Living Room was all about mismatched mugs, squashy, beat-up armchairs, and comfortably dim lighting. Gradually, they bought a new set of mugs and fixed up some of the chairs, got classier-looking menus, etc, but it was the same place. It always retained that air of comfort and the coffee was always good. And the sandwiches! Were huge. And delicious.

Here are some of my favourite memories of The Living Room:

15 years old, with Nassim, Daniel, and Bailey. During outdoor school. We were cold and had just seen a play at the Broadway Theatre (which I would work at four years later). I was feeling jittery and sick and Nassim seemed to get it and said "Just drink this peppermint tea," very kindly and quietly.

16 years old, meeting my friend Ryan for the first time. I had seen an ad he put up looking for folks to join a post-rock band, pounced on it, and called the number. We met on a school night and sat near the back (left side, Saskatonians, closer to the kitchen). I was wearing a Spiderman t-shirt, and he asked me if I had ever heard of Animal Collective (I hadn't at the time). He showed me his sketchbook and told me about this girl he was madly in love with (soon to be my friend, because that's how Saskatoon rolls). We were friends fast, and although our band (Kingdom Protista) was short-lived, we did play a few good shows.

17 years old, skipping school with Lisa and Orlanda. Eating huge sandwiches with hummus. We laughed a lot but wondered if we were going to drift apart (we did). Going down by the Meewasin afterwards and getting our shoes dusty. We didn't go back to school that day.

19 years old, on an afternoon after a sleepless night. Luke and I met and talked about Before Sunrise/Sunset and Annie Hall at the table closest to the coat rack. I felt nervous about making too much or too little eye contact. It was a sunny-shivery day and we went to sit on Nutana's fire escape after and got too cold.

I've never set foot in that Starbucks, and I never ever will.

like a bull with its horns

I am sometimes kind of abrasive.
Sometimes I sound angrier than I am.

(Most of the time I'm just scared.)

In a bit, I'll be done school and I'll just take conversational french classes, make tonnes of zines, wear braids most of the time, bake and cook delicious vegan food, read excellent books, work a sweet minimum wage job, and hang out with my mom. That sounds pretty good to me.
So Saskatoon, if I come back in like half a year, would you put in a good word for me at the theatre I used to work at?

Toronto, I love you, promise. You're what I needed, f'sho. My mom said to me on the phone:
"Maybe you need a year of feeling sad and lonely and uncertain about your life,"
and I thought: Fuck yeah (not ironic or sarcastic)!

So, yes. I can probably survive.

oh dear.

1. "But we were stupid then," Alison and I used to say, citing our possible ignorance as our reason, half-jokingly, half-desperately. Alison is kind of amazing (kind of=totally).

2. There's this line that goes "Holding you at night/doesn't feel quite right/and that gives me a fright".

3. Whatever, I don't feel good about you anymore. It feels like you're holding a big secret far from me. I'm so tired from trying to get you to talk to me about anything meaningful. In your parents' car, you said "Really? Sharpie? I always thought sharpie looked tacky."

4. I have grass-is-greener syndrome and I'm not sure if it's curable.

5. I used to sleep on one side of the bed, lying stiff as a board. Now I curl up as small as I possibly can in the middle, between the pillows.