Tagged: sad

I wasn't going to blog about this, but I will

- by admin

Because I advocate writing as a therapy.

I always say things like "if you don't bear yr soul nobody will give a damn about what you had to say" which I still think is true.

If I expect people to give a damn when I'm at my highest, they need to know me when I'm at my lowest.

Right now I'm at my lowest.

The past few months, however, I was at my highest: I was working somewhere amazing and I loved the shit out of my job.

I loved the people I worked with. I loved the work that I did. I even loved our clients, as much as they drove me crazy on occasion.

I walked into work every day happy to be there.

But good things don't always last.

Challenges exist to teach us lessons

the trials we face in life help us grow

and all that stupid bullshit people say to try and save face when their heart is breaking.

So now that you know that my heart is breaking

let me say this:

I'm going to miss that place. I'm sad that I've left.

But I wish everyone there all the best, because they deserve it.

Rock on, DF.


yr girl Shaner
Tags: Life Pink Sad Work


the story of your red right ankle

- by admin

is a line of a song by the decemberists that I like a lot, even though it makes me sad.

the first time I heard the decemberists was when I was living in hamilton and I had no idea who I was.

which sounds silly but it's true. I didn't know then and I knew it but I wasn't ready to admit it.

such is life, and youth.

it was the day after my birthday and it was cold and grey and shitty outside

I was waiting for my boyfriend who I was living in hamilton with and

I think

didn't really know who he was, either.

how could we, after all.

he had gone to a restaurant attached to a mall to go get his sweater which he had left there the night before

when we had gone out for dinner and drinks with friends for my birthday.

I don't remember what I ate but I know it was mediocre

it was one of those types of restaurants. not a montana's or a moxie's or an earl's.

but one of those places that feigns being a decent restaurant but isn't. the same kind.

I did shots of sambuca which were awful and I hate cinnamon but I hated my life more

at least, I realize in retrospect

and ate my mediocre dinner and smiled and was uncomfortably aware of the hole in my heart

I was trying to fill with booze and shitty food

and missed my home, even though I'd spent years trying to leave.

so the next day after my boyfriend forgot his sweater in the restaurant

when I found myself sitting alone in his car

hungover and miserable

listening to the radio do one of those countdown shows when red right ankle came on

I cried in hamilton

not for the first time.

just made a scene at work

- by admin


one of the good things about my work is that I get to do a lot of cool stuff like go on lunch excursions and help throw massive 500-person events and bring in entertainers and stuff.

today we brought in a group of improv performers who would 'act out' a story that an audience member told. it's pretty cool, actually.

except when it's my turn.

most people I know wouldn't believe me but public speaking freaks me out.

especially when I'm unprepared.

(mostly when I'm unprepared)

like when I'm sitting in a room with twenty people and they're all urging me to tell a "funny story" and I'm trying to politely decline and they're all going

alyson yr so funny. tell us a funny story alyson.


so on the spot I ramble some lame and completely unfunny story because who can come up with a funny story on the spot?

not me I tell you.

and halfway through I realize 'shit this isn't funny. this isn't even a good story'

and I feel the shakes and redness and wobbly voice kick in

and of course the woman running the improv group is doting on me because she can tell that I'm getting anxious and telling me what a good job I'm doing and

she keeps focusing on me and putting her hand on my shoulder which is making it worse because her weird clammy hand is on my skin and

they're going through the motions improv-ing this horrible story which is just making it worse because it's not funny and I can feel myself getting redder and redder and I'm playing with my rings and my fingernails and anything I can pick at or twist

and of course I can't just leave. getting up and walking out would just make it worse so I tell myself

just sit through it. it'll be over soon.

and then omg the woman is kneeling in front of me telling me how it's okay and how I'm 'such a sport' for sharing and just

no. fuck off. you're making it worse. go dote on someone else

I want to yell. but I don't because it's work and it's not polite to yell at the improv lady so I don't

I sit there twisting my ring and my hair and feeling my face flush bright red

waiting for this horrible experience to end.

now I remember why I hate improv.

RIP The Lo Pub

- by admin

yesterday I went out with tyrone, @abstractartform and @cenquist for some beers and snacks at my favourite close-to-school haunt, the lo pub, which is closing this weekend and it's breaking my heart.

I don't 100% understand what's happened beyond the fact that the HI hostel that was in the same building is moving and the building was up for sale and, I guess, the new owners didn't want to keep the lo pub part of it.

what I do know and understand is that it sucks, 100%.

besides the fact that lo is right beside my campus and was the perfect place to head in-between (or before, or after) class to grab some half pints and something from their seriously delicious vegetarian menu (omg the chickpea fritters omg) and hang with friends, to the monthly meetups for secret handshake, it was a super-important venue for the local music scene.

I've seriously seen every kind of band there, shitty rock and low-key indie and weepy chicks singing and the 8-bit shows my pal mr ghosty (pictured) did there, too. I'm not a musician (ha) but my peeps tell me jack was the nicest and coolest guy to deal with, and he gave a legitimate shit about the music scene here.

he's one of those guys who might not know you (though he might know me from how often I sucked back beers there) but everyone knows who he is. I'm sure there are lots of people who owe their first shows to him, and lots more who owe their awesome evenings to him.

RIP lo pub. here's hoping the crew can make the magic happen somewhere else real soon.

some days I don't feel like blogging

- by admin

nothing I have to say feels witty enough, smart enough, relevant enough to type out and hit 'publish' and be proud of the next day.

maybe my problem is that I care if I'm proud of what I say later. should I be?

tyrone messaged me this morning and said "I've been reading your blog, you've been sad lately" and though I was in a good mood at the time it made me sad because is that really what I sound like? fuck. I'm sorry, guys.

I think I need a vacation, which isn't happening anytime soon because school starts in omg like two weeks so there's no time or money available for such frivolousness. and yes I know I just came back from BC and Connect and festivals but I mean a vacation. far away. somewhere I can relax and bit and not stress and chill the fuck out for the first time in what feels like years.

don't get me wrong I'm happy with life and my friends and tyrone and blah blah but sometimes you don't realize how stressed out you are until someone else has to point it out and them boom it all lands on your shoulders like a huge weight and of course you're at work when it happens so you have to push through the whole afternoon feeling like junk.

of course.

so let's just pretend everything I said above was cute hilarious banter about the video of the hovercraft video.

I didn't know her very well

- by admin

but I knew her well enough.

as well enough as you can know someone you see a couple of times a week for close to a year, I guess.
she always tried to give me something to eat. a banana. some chocolate cake she'd made. a cup of coffee. I swear she got a meal ready just because she knew I'd be stopping by.she reminded me of Greta Garbo in Inspiration

she always looked so damn good. blazers and slacks and heels and lots of gold jewlery. real diamonds and pearls.

some women never stop being classy, no matter how old they get.

she was one of them.

she held my hand when she saw me. looked me in the eye. leaned on me when she had to get up but asked me not to tell anyone.

she called me "sweetie" and always wanted to know when I'd come by so she could go to the hairdresser in the morning.

the last time I saw her she was waiting for a ride to the hospital. sitting in the lobby by herself. she called me over and took my hand. she told me she was scared

and I hugged her

I told her I'd see her soon, that she'd be okay and I'd see her for our next appointment.

turns out I lied.

because there won't be a next time.

goodbye, Carole


Some ways I can make today better:

- by admin

Listening to my favourite Chilly Gonzales track.

watching more Boardwalk Empire

eating ice cream (but not this much or I'll get sick)

getting hugs from this fine gentleman:

and crying.

I said goodbye today
to someone who means the world to me
my heart is breaking
and all I can do
is tell you that I love you
and be glad that we still have each other

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