August 12, 2012
May 25, 2011
NO BUT SERIOUSLY
sometimes i wake up, look around, stop for a second - and suddenly realize that i'm 22, semi-employed at best, not nearly as talented or accomplished as a lot of my friends...or worst of all: that i might never get any of the things i've spent years working towards, done. or worse, that i'll fuck them up. cause i've wasted a lot of time, and regret a lot of my past...and worry about doing the same 10, 20, 30 (!?) years from now. (which is a total fucking waste of time, btw)
i dunno...i guess i just always assumed i'd be smarter, happier, and definitely way more successful by now. or at least better at the things i do...or doing more things, period.
i guess thats just one of those things i forgot to do. i'm always forgetting shit, it's kinda retarded.
but from now on it's #1 on the to-do list. the one i haven't started. yet.
...ah fuck it, i'll do it tomorrow.
i dunno...i guess i just always assumed i'd be smarter, happier, and definitely way more successful by now. or at least better at the things i do...or doing more things, period.
i guess thats just one of those things i forgot to do. i'm always forgetting shit, it's kinda retarded.
but from now on it's #1 on the to-do list. the one i haven't started. yet.
...ah fuck it, i'll do it tomorrow.
 |
| INSPIRATIONAL RAINBOWY UNICORNS! |
like this
i can make anything
look
like
really, really shitty poetry.
...like seriously the shittiest poetry ever.
i thought writing this would be really emotional, but
i hit the 'enter' key by accident and
(now this is happening)
its so rad,
when the glass really does end up half full
when the glass really does end up half full
and suddenly you're all like:
"...hey people that write poems
"...hey people that write poems
are the shittiest people on earth...
so, yo, like, seriously :
fuck poems
'n shit,
cause they totally, like,
(suck balls)
or whatever..."
'n shit,
cause they totally, like,
(suck balls)
or whatever..."
April 17, 2011
NEW/OLD
Hearty Presents: Ten Reasons Betty White Should Tweet
...And of course, you can find me on Facebook and Twitter.
COMING SOON: THIS BLOG.
 |
A PLACE FOR ME TO:
1) GET YOU STOKED ON STUFF I DO (guitar & music-related stuff: writing, posters, shows, etc..)
2) WRITE ABOUT STUFF I AM STOKED ON.
SO HOLD YER HORSES. THINGS WILL BE UP AND RUNNING IN NO TIME!
For now, here's a couple more links to my writing & junk from the past year or so...
...And of course, you can find me on Facebook and Twitter.
June 29, 2010
(HALF)WHITE HATE
1/2 white, 1/2 Korean dude on the Korean attitude towards interracial relationships:
SOME SUPER FUN FACTS ABOUT KOREAN RACISM:
- It's illegal to join the military in Korea if you're racially mixed.
- In North Korea it is law that women must get an abortion if the fetus is/might be mixed
WHOA!!!! Extreme.
Koreans are giant assholes when it comes to race. Being mixed is pretty much the grossest thing ever to them, and my parents actually left because they wanted a kid, but not in a country where it'd be illegal for it to go to school (true fact!). I think the Korean side of my family either hate me or assume my mom had an abortion or something. I met my grandma for the first and last time once when I was eleven. I've never had contact with anyone else from that side of my family. In fact I've never even seen photographs of most of them. I wonder if I look like anyone over there. Probably not.
Sometimes I feel like I was put together by some mad scientist with shitty einstein hair and a bag of mr. potato head parts. I mean, I found out the other day that my eyes don't ever close all the way because my fucking gook eyelids aren't big enough for my white person eyeballs. So I sleep with my eyes open a crack, always. Seriously. My retarded cross eyed cat is the only other case of open eyed sleeping I've come across. And she's fucking retarded. I thought about putting her down once, out of mercy. Then I decided I didn't want her dead eyeballs staring at me accusingly as I buried her in a dumpster, so she's alive.
June 7, 2010
YOUTUBE RULES
FUNNY KEYBOARDS + FUNNY CATS = LIFE CHANGING
HIGH SCHOOL?
WHITE GUILT
BUDDY GUY USED TO BE THE MOST HARDCORE MOTHERFUCKER EVER
May 21, 2010
BRO HOLE
HOW I SPENT MY FRIDAY:
me and mish try to get the internet to work at the library/go searching for wireless
only place with wireless is a 'taphouse' (white people slang for 'bar with expensive fries')
'writing article' turns into john frusciante youtube videos + fries + beer
funky bro holes/unicorn and walrus tattoos
more beer
go home to find dad using new amp
get pissed because dad is way way better than i remembered
get pissed-er because i almost thought i had gotten better than him finally/could out drink him finally
tall cans
tall cans
tall cans
hashbrowns
my cat is retarded
suddently realize i should probably get a job /life
tall cans
May 10, 2010
unemployment specialist
in between fistfighting my amp, drinking beer, trying to get a US work visa, and being the busiest unemployed person ever, i have squeezed out two more things for hearty. thanks go to mish for helping with editing/resizing.
here they be:
FREE FALLIN'
NOVELTY BLANKET REVOLUTION (ALL ABOUT FART BLANKETS!)
PS
MARRIAGE FARTS!!!!!
here they be:
FREE FALLIN'
NOVELTY BLANKET REVOLUTION (ALL ABOUT FART BLANKETS!)
PS
MARRIAGE FARTS!!!!!
May 3, 2010
WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS
it is funny when i suddenly realize that everyone i made plans with in the past six months(aside from one person), ended up flaking out.
sitting around and thinking about this at 4:30 in the afternoon makes me all teenage and weepy, like jared leto/JTT is about to creep into frame and console me. instead i'm fixing things that don't need to be fixed and trying to stay busy and being too busy and then suddenly being hit with empty time and unresolved high school angst. always always always.
sitting around and thinking about this at 4:30 in the afternoon makes me all teenage and weepy, like jared leto/JTT is about to creep into frame and console me. instead i'm fixing things that don't need to be fixed and trying to stay busy and being too busy and then suddenly being hit with empty time and unresolved high school angst. always always always.
April 21, 2010
THE QUEEN IS DEAD/LONG LIVE THE QUEEN
SHE KEEPS IT REAL
thanks to my homegirl mish, i am gonna be doing a bit here and there for hearty magazine. thanks to things like an editor, my stuff is actually grammatically correct and tidy looking. here's my first piece of magic hangover ramble for them: LONG LIVE THE QUEEN
thanks to my homegirl mish, i am gonna be doing a bit here and there for hearty magazine. thanks to things like an editor, my stuff is actually grammatically correct and tidy looking. here's my first piece of magic hangover ramble for them: LONG LIVE THE QUEEN
March 22, 2010
March 2, 2010
strange lives
My dad, age 21/22
Postal Address:
Lower Mainland Regional Correctional Centre, Drawer __, Burnaby ___, BC
Date: Sept. 18/1971
"...Anyways, I'm being transferred out of here to Haney on Tuesday to some kind of work farm...they don't seem to consider me a terribly dangerous criminal - they're wrong of course, but it's their business and not mine...."
Letter from my dad to his family from Oakalla Prison aka Lower Mainland Regional Correctional, early 1970's.
"Dear Mom and Dad
The trial has been postponed until the 7th of February, but there is much talk about how it will turn out, of course it could only be rumours and yet it seems like evry thing has been worked out behind our backs before we even set foot in court. "
"If I should by some miracle die it's better that than to degenerate into some mush-ball. I may not know what I want to do but I sure as hell know what I don't want to do. This is why I hate letters, they make me feel dirty as if every word I have written is a lie. "
About Oakalla Prison/ LMRC and Haney:
Documenting memories of Oakalla prison 1912-1991
It is the common verdict that all prisons and jails are dangerous, frightening places and most of our communities simply will not consider hosting one. Yet there have been fewer than a half dozen prisons in all of Canadian history which truly deserve to be labeled "infamous". American penal history has its Alcatraz, its Leavenworth, Sing Sing, Folsom, San Quentin and many more. In Canada the most feared prison was the "super-maximum" called Millhaven, built outside of Kingston, Ontario. Here on the Pacific Coast no prison was more "infamous" than Oakalla, in Burnaby.
The statistics for Oakalla hint at the horror and decades of unrelenting pain. There were 44 official executions (hangings) ... 890 escapes between 1940-1990 and a score of full scale riots. There were also dozens of suicides and a few thousand suicide attempts, during the prison's last decades of operation.
A 1987 aerial photo of the main hall of the Oakalla prison complex in Burnaby, B.C., near Vancouver. Oakalla was completely demolished in 1992 at the insistence of the municipal government, and replaced by 531 "luxury" condo townhouses and rental apartments. It has been suggested that the ghosts of the men executed at Oakalla still haunt the hillside property. Research for THE GHOSTS OF OAKALLA has uncovered many extraordinary and compelling stories of its desperate inmates.
There have been just a handful of books published about Oakalla Prison and Earl Andersen's HARD PLACE TO DO TIME (1993) is probably the best of the bunch. Ironically, given the fact that Oakalla was always in the news, there have been no documentary films produced on its history or its incredible inmate population. Well we are now addressing that lack of foresight because time is running out. The survivors are dying off and living memory has become dull. Pre-production is underway and we will have an HD video short ready for viewing by mid-August. Any person or group with an interest in viewing THE GHOSTS OF OAKALLA
should send me their contact information. The isolation unit of the infamous Oakalla Prison in Burnaby, B.C. The institution had a fascinating and deeply troubled history. It housed a Who's Who of British Columbia criminals and political prisoners.
Six years later, my parents met:
"I'm full of hope about the life in Canada. And we can do anything because we're together. We both have energy, hope, and the reason of our lives (sic)...each other.
1977/3/27 "
- My mom, age 21.
HAPPY ENDINGS DO HAPPEN?!?!?!?!?!
The statistics for Oakalla hint at the horror and decades of unrelenting pain. There were 44 official executions (hangings) ... 890 escapes between 1940-1990 and a score of full scale riots. There were also dozens of suicides and a few thousand suicide attempts, during the prison's last decades of operation.
A 1987 aerial photo of the main hall of the Oakalla prison complex in Burnaby, B.C., near Vancouver. Oakalla was completely demolished in 1992 at the insistence of the municipal government, and replaced by 531 "luxury" condo townhouses and rental apartments. It has been suggested that the ghosts of the men executed at Oakalla still haunt the hillside property. Research for THE GHOSTS OF OAKALLA has uncovered many extraordinary and compelling stories of its desperate inmates.There have been just a handful of books published about Oakalla Prison and Earl Andersen's HARD PLACE TO DO TIME (1993) is probably the best of the bunch. Ironically, given the fact that Oakalla was always in the news, there have been no documentary films produced on its history or its incredible inmate population. Well we are now addressing that lack of foresight because time is running out. The survivors are dying off and living memory has become dull. Pre-production is underway and we will have an HD video short ready for viewing by mid-August. Any person or group with an interest in viewing THE GHOSTS OF OAKALLA
should send me their contact information. The isolation unit of the infamous Oakalla Prison in Burnaby, B.C. The institution had a fascinating and deeply troubled history. It housed a Who's Who of British Columbia criminals and political prisoners.Six years later, my parents met:
"I'm full of hope about the life in Canada. And we can do anything because we're together. We both have energy, hope, and the reason of our lives (sic)...each other.
1977/3/27 "
- My mom, age 21.
HAPPY ENDINGS DO HAPPEN?!?!?!?!?!
March 1, 2010
I AM NUTS < MY DAD IS NUTS
"ostriches only have two legs. they also have quite pointy heads"
- text message from my 60-something year old dad, from across the continent. 11:09 pm today, apparently worth the long distance charges.
if you do enough acid, you will one day feel the need to randomly text your kids this sort of stuff.
you will also feel the need to only wear a robe, miniskirt length, around the house on a day to day basis. and says stuff like "hey, i took a bath six days ago - whats the big deal?"
when i was 8 or so my dad tried to convince me he was related to a coyote.
when do i know whether or not my dad has become senile? for someone who pissed in the kitchen sink once because it was funny, and had a bonding experience with a seagull that landed in my living room as a kid, it can be really hard to differentiate old age dementia dad from normal dad hilariousness.
i feel like he just smoked a joint with an ostrich just now. role models come in all forms.
- text message from my 60-something year old dad, from across the continent. 11:09 pm today, apparently worth the long distance charges.
if you do enough acid, you will one day feel the need to randomly text your kids this sort of stuff.
you will also feel the need to only wear a robe, miniskirt length, around the house on a day to day basis. and says stuff like "hey, i took a bath six days ago - whats the big deal?"
when i was 8 or so my dad tried to convince me he was related to a coyote.
when do i know whether or not my dad has become senile? for someone who pissed in the kitchen sink once because it was funny, and had a bonding experience with a seagull that landed in my living room as a kid, it can be really hard to differentiate old age dementia dad from normal dad hilariousness.
i feel like he just smoked a joint with an ostrich just now. role models come in all forms.
February 22, 2010
sounds of synanon
recorded in 1964, all the musicians here are patients at synanon rehab. joe pass was in for heroin addiction, which he overcame after ten years of jail, poverty, and semi-homelessness. apparently he took his (already insane) guitar playing and improvisational skills to another level in rehab, practicing all day and night because there's nothing better to do in treatment. this is the result:
so maybe heidi fleiss, tom sizemore, kari-ann, and dennis rodman should start putting something together? "the sounds of celebrity rehab 3"?
so maybe heidi fleiss, tom sizemore, kari-ann, and dennis rodman should start putting something together? "the sounds of celebrity rehab 3"?
February 12, 2010
RIP FUCKHEAD
i think god was watching mtv one day when he realized he had to do something about that john mayer fellow. this is that asshole that just HAD to make the song "your body is a wonderland" exist. who goes out of his way to explain how he is a serious artist doing serious artist things like dating jennifer aniston, getting a bunch of shitty japanese fish tattoos, and making a (entirely faked) guitar face that is so fucking disgusting that it can't be described in the words. it actually makes your insides feel funny.
this guy tries to claim he's a legit guitarist, does hendrix and SRV covers, works with clapton (who is currently a lame, irrelevant iphone-shilling, old millionaire) and buddy guy and blah blah blah, then backtracks on his shitty music by putting together a SERIOUS guitar trio - that is shitty - really, really shitty.
the universe decided it had had enough and mayer ruined his career with a terrible playboy interview, in which he proved himself to be a sheltered simpleton frat-boy, asking "what is being black?" and then going on to drop this gem: "not to say that my struggle is like the collective struggle of black America. But maybe my struggle is similar to one black dude’s." WHOA.
he just dug the hole deeper as the interview went on: by saying "nigger", talking about how he has a hood pass because he worked with one black guy once or something, making a white supremacist reference when describing his...ugh...his dick ("my dick is sort of like a white supremacist. I’ve got a Benetton heart and a fuckin’ David Duke cock.") , and calling jessica simpson "SEXUAL NAPALM". the guy also admitted that him and jennifer aniston broke up because he was addicted to twitter. holy fuck.
the press jumped all over him and the entire world has joined together to say "FUCK JOHN MAYER". i turned on the news and there was a CNN panel discussing what a turd he is. yes!!!!
today, to appease the gods, john mayer cmade this official statement:
"I quit the media game. I'm out. I'm done,"
COULD THIS BE TRUE? PROOF OF DIVINE INTERVENTION??!?!
"It seems that John Mayer fans are set to feel devastated by recent reports claiming that the rocker is planing to retire soon. According to the news, John could be ending his career in the music scene after he finishes his current tour.
That news surfaced after the rock singer himself stated in an interview with USA Today, stating that he might not be releasing anymore albums."
THANK YOU KITTEN JESUS!!!!! MIRACLES DO HAPPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
February 7, 2010
BRAINWASH
andrea just made me remember our grade six science fair project that just sums up the best parts of my tweens. the premise was that we were going to record the effects of music on the miiiind - it was called "BRAINWASH" (as in "carwash" but instead of cars its 11 year old brains and instead of soap its cds through headphones out of the boombox in my bedroom.)
we slacked off until the last minute and never ended up actually doing any of it, and made a bunch of kids in our class lie that they were participants in our research project. we wrote a completely made-up report, claiming we had recorded heart rate, temperature, BRAINWAVES, everything. with medical equipment we somehow had lying around. like tiny idiot doctors. we even put down what we thought would be "believable" results, like heart rate of 12 bpm or something.
the best part is that our project revolved around the effects of...L7! a totally made up science fair project about how we had discovered the groundbreaking scientific link between "mr. integrity" and the brainwaves, heart rates, and MINDS of 11 year olds.
seeing as we were tiny idiot geniuses, our project ended up going to provincials, where we sat in a gym full of chinese mensa kids doing biochemistry and physics. we explained our medical research to the various judges that probably assumed our project was an elaborate joke so smart that it landed us in provincials.
and then, in grade nine, we took the exact same project, dusted it off, and entered it in our high school science fair. this time it involved people also having to blow up balloons. holy shit.
if the stars align, it is still in our highschool, which happens to be a block away from where i live. we just need to track it down...so we can both have end of term projects this semester.
12:02amAndrea
i need to figure this out
i just called daniel
he mentioned something about us making people blow up balloons
????
12:03amHannah
that sounds vaguely familiar
12:06amAndrea
i know fuck
im going through my hotmail account
we slacked off until the last minute and never ended up actually doing any of it, and made a bunch of kids in our class lie that they were participants in our research project. we wrote a completely made-up report, claiming we had recorded heart rate, temperature, BRAINWAVES, everything. with medical equipment we somehow had lying around. like tiny idiot doctors. we even put down what we thought would be "believable" results, like heart rate of 12 bpm or something.
the best part is that our project revolved around the effects of...L7! a totally made up science fair project about how we had discovered the groundbreaking scientific link between "mr. integrity" and the brainwaves, heart rates, and MINDS of 11 year olds.
seeing as we were tiny idiot geniuses, our project ended up going to provincials, where we sat in a gym full of chinese mensa kids doing biochemistry and physics. we explained our medical research to the various judges that probably assumed our project was an elaborate joke so smart that it landed us in provincials.
and then, in grade nine, we took the exact same project, dusted it off, and entered it in our high school science fair. this time it involved people also having to blow up balloons. holy shit.
if the stars align, it is still in our highschool, which happens to be a block away from where i live. we just need to track it down...so we can both have end of term projects this semester.
12:02amAndrea
i need to figure this out
i just called daniel
he mentioned something about us making people blow up balloons
????
12:03amHannah
that sounds vaguely familiar
12:06amAndrea
i know fuck
im going through my hotmail account
January 30, 2010
DA WIZ
either i'm floating on a mixture of acid, ecstasy, freebase and pixie stix - or there are really a hundred tie dyed black guys with pom poms dancing in unison while diana ross runs around hand in hand with a midget covered in sparkles on my TV.
HOOOLY FUCK.
when you don't sleep regularly for long enough your dreams begin to unfold in real life and real life becomes a weird ___ hour period where you watch your dreams on TV while looking for the weather network.
now a bunch of crack dealers that just so happen to be crows are hasslin' michael jackson - probably for the 80 bucks of unicorn tranquelizer they fronted him. MJ as a scarecrow all tangled up on a quasi-crucifix is a really really weird thing to see.
THE MORAL OF THE STORY?...
eight months ago i moved my stuff into my parents place with the intention of staying for a week, so i could get my shit together. fast forward to today and this is what i'm doing while waiting for my chicken nuggets to be done. so basically if you do enough drugs to ruin your life and lose your apartment, good things will happen to you. if you're me. and get handed one high five after another by whoever programs the cosmos.
TAKE MY ADVICE.
January 25, 2010
GANGSTER OF LOVE
THERE IS A GANGSTER ON THE LOOSE...DO NOT APPREHEND, JUST SAY "IT'S COOL"
PS
this guy was an actual pimp. i think that his bones are made of crack cocaine and his blood is made of cognac and women's tears.
January 11, 2010
alcohol and paypal
woke up to the UPS guy delivering me a big bag of picks. this is why i should not have a credit card.
January 7, 2010
picz 2 come
there were wizards on the bus. i happened to catch their secret conversations on a papyrus scroll. composite sketches soon to come when my mom is not sleeping. who knew wizards got off at skytrain stations?
PART ONE:
"u eat seafood?"
"nah."
"u hafta do organic."
"...soy tuna."
"ITS A LIVING TESTAMENT."
"everything organic."
PART DEUCE:
"she was like eating KFC then all on my blog..."
PART TROIS ET MAGNIFIQUE:
"DO U HAVE AN AVATAR?"
PART SAD:
"is this an animated movie?"
PART FIVE FEATURING DRAGONS:
"when we saw the dragons..."
PART SIX - THE INTERMISSION:
"ITS LIKE "WHOS KISSIN WHO?"
PART SEVEN: YELLOW BELTZ
"he did crazy movies that like took me somewhere else...he works at burger king."
PART EIGHT - DAS SHINY:
"whats yer favorite game?"
"SHINY-TAR!!!!!!!!!!"
PART NINE: TREE WIZARDS FT. LACK OF ANTI PERSPIRANT:
"dat star wars game wuz crazy"
"...yeah, crazy!"
"have u every played magic the gathering?"
"THEY HAVE ALL THESE WIZARDS THE TREES LIKE TALK, THERES ELVES..."
PART TEN: MAGIC DOES EXIST:
"FIREPOWER ICE GODS!!!!!!!!"
January 5, 2010
how long until i delete this for the 2nd time
i got drunk and wrote this a few days after christmas. i guess it's time to show you my earnest, embarrassing side. my mtv unplugged side. my straight to dvd romantic comedy alter ego.
HERE GOES:
this time last year i was married, with two cats (cheeseburger and sylvia), in an apartment in south van. i still have my wedding ring, and my engagement ring. i remember how strange it felt to not have them on after it ended. i still have them, in a box on my parents' bookshelf.
my life has changed so much. i never thought i would ever move back in with my parents. when i had no other choice i even fought it. i slept in the hospital for two days just to not have to face being enough of a loser to have to move back in with the folks. but waking up alone in a hospital bed, with no friends to speak of, an alienated family, and finally no husband, left me with no choice. i came home.
and i am so glad i did. as degrassi as it sounds. i spent two weeks sweating and crying in a makeshift bed on the floor of my parents' house, under my mom's drafting board, begging for either a swift death in my sleep, or to have my shitty, shitty husband back.
flash forward to today: since then (june 2009) i have had four life threatening heroin overdoses. this is while i've been trying to be clean. the first was a week after the break-up, and i had only been clean for a week at that point. i guess it's the most understandable. young adult faces breakup and is too much of a pussy to just be sad for a month or two. the other three are bullshit, and a result of me trying to live guilt-free from my shitty, shitty gross drug problems. there is nothing worse than waking up to paramedics shoving tubes down your throat after injecting you with narcan and fitting you with a ventilator because you can't breathe on your own, while you see your parents fuzz in and fuzz out in the foreground, not crying anymore because it's become routine and almost boring. eyes rolling, heads shaking, etc.
twice i have technically died this year. twice i have been non-responsive with no signs of breathing. so thats kind of four of my nine lives. relapse deaths are the easiest, i guess. if i were some higher power i'd probably want to wipe out a 21 year old living with their parents and sneaking drugs, too. it makes sense.
but today, at least, i am ok. i have not used heroin since my last overdose, and i went back to school. i'm not exactly happy, but the things that make me happy take up the time that drugs used to. i sit in my room and play guitar all day, sometimes for days at a stretch. sleep here and there, eat leftovers standing up. i have become a master at multi tasking because of this. one handed typing between notes, sandwich on amp. basically i am 12 again. when i'm not doing that i hang out with andrea, and that is one of the most comforting things in the world. it takes me back to when i was a kid, when the both of us made plans on living in a spray painted tour bus and travel across the universe.
i guess my christmas message is that having an awesome best friend can kind of save your life, whether it be a guitar or some silly serbian that finds all your jokes funny. the fact that i could come back after over two years of completely disappearing still surprises me. and makes me so overwhelmed by how great my remaining friends are. oh, uh, and my parents, you know - those people that muscled their way through the unspeakable pain i put them through, just to give me a place - rent free! - to live in for as long as it takes me to become a functional, relapse-free adult. to have people that will do their best to protect you, and be there for you after you've dropped off the radar because crack and heroin ft. a shitty husband seemed way more...necessary? - is insane. and to look back and think that those things were actually more important, more integral to me being able to get up in the morning...makes me so sad. i lost a lot of time. i miss the years that i never got to actually live because i was standing in some alley doing alley-related things. i miss my teenage years! and the first part of my twenties. but i guess the best option i have right now is to white out the shitty parts of my life, because i can't reel the tape back.
don't do drugs, kids. or at least have a friend that will stay with you after you get clean. i ruined my life from age fourteen on. but i got (mostly) clean seven months ago, and by some luck of the draw a few of my oldest friends came back into my life. my parents did, too. and one of them even had christmas at my parents house. plus beer. that's a total fucking win-win. i got my parents back, my best friend, and there was beer. and the lil' wayne documentary.
i think that's a sob story worth sharing. slob story.
merry two days after christmas-mas. don't ever think i'm not thankful for how my life turned around and brought me turkey and beer as opposed to jail and situations too shitty to even mention.
HERE GOES:
this time last year i was married, with two cats (cheeseburger and sylvia), in an apartment in south van. i still have my wedding ring, and my engagement ring. i remember how strange it felt to not have them on after it ended. i still have them, in a box on my parents' bookshelf.
my life has changed so much. i never thought i would ever move back in with my parents. when i had no other choice i even fought it. i slept in the hospital for two days just to not have to face being enough of a loser to have to move back in with the folks. but waking up alone in a hospital bed, with no friends to speak of, an alienated family, and finally no husband, left me with no choice. i came home.
and i am so glad i did. as degrassi as it sounds. i spent two weeks sweating and crying in a makeshift bed on the floor of my parents' house, under my mom's drafting board, begging for either a swift death in my sleep, or to have my shitty, shitty husband back.
flash forward to today: since then (june 2009) i have had four life threatening heroin overdoses. this is while i've been trying to be clean. the first was a week after the break-up, and i had only been clean for a week at that point. i guess it's the most understandable. young adult faces breakup and is too much of a pussy to just be sad for a month or two. the other three are bullshit, and a result of me trying to live guilt-free from my shitty, shitty gross drug problems. there is nothing worse than waking up to paramedics shoving tubes down your throat after injecting you with narcan and fitting you with a ventilator because you can't breathe on your own, while you see your parents fuzz in and fuzz out in the foreground, not crying anymore because it's become routine and almost boring. eyes rolling, heads shaking, etc.
twice i have technically died this year. twice i have been non-responsive with no signs of breathing. so thats kind of four of my nine lives. relapse deaths are the easiest, i guess. if i were some higher power i'd probably want to wipe out a 21 year old living with their parents and sneaking drugs, too. it makes sense.
but today, at least, i am ok. i have not used heroin since my last overdose, and i went back to school. i'm not exactly happy, but the things that make me happy take up the time that drugs used to. i sit in my room and play guitar all day, sometimes for days at a stretch. sleep here and there, eat leftovers standing up. i have become a master at multi tasking because of this. one handed typing between notes, sandwich on amp. basically i am 12 again. when i'm not doing that i hang out with andrea, and that is one of the most comforting things in the world. it takes me back to when i was a kid, when the both of us made plans on living in a spray painted tour bus and travel across the universe.
i guess my christmas message is that having an awesome best friend can kind of save your life, whether it be a guitar or some silly serbian that finds all your jokes funny. the fact that i could come back after over two years of completely disappearing still surprises me. and makes me so overwhelmed by how great my remaining friends are. oh, uh, and my parents, you know - those people that muscled their way through the unspeakable pain i put them through, just to give me a place - rent free! - to live in for as long as it takes me to become a functional, relapse-free adult. to have people that will do their best to protect you, and be there for you after you've dropped off the radar because crack and heroin ft. a shitty husband seemed way more...necessary? - is insane. and to look back and think that those things were actually more important, more integral to me being able to get up in the morning...makes me so sad. i lost a lot of time. i miss the years that i never got to actually live because i was standing in some alley doing alley-related things. i miss my teenage years! and the first part of my twenties. but i guess the best option i have right now is to white out the shitty parts of my life, because i can't reel the tape back.
don't do drugs, kids. or at least have a friend that will stay with you after you get clean. i ruined my life from age fourteen on. but i got (mostly) clean seven months ago, and by some luck of the draw a few of my oldest friends came back into my life. my parents did, too. and one of them even had christmas at my parents house. plus beer. that's a total fucking win-win. i got my parents back, my best friend, and there was beer. and the lil' wayne documentary.
i think that's a sob story worth sharing. slob story.
merry two days after christmas-mas. don't ever think i'm not thankful for how my life turned around and brought me turkey and beer as opposed to jail and situations too shitty to even mention.
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