I think

I may be losing my mind

(not really)
(edited a little later, just to clarify… )

Goddess of war

Not quite… But I’m in the temple of the Oracle, so I’m doing pretty good. And Kratos is damn sexy.


What defines a relationship after so many years? Besides comfort, besides habit, besides security. There has to be love. There has to be patience, acceptance, trust, understanding. But these things mean some kind of self sacrifice. Does self sacrifice mean love? What makes us think that taking the backseat is love. Then again, why is it not? Happiness can be found in self awareness, yes. Emancipation? Ok.

I’m not happy. It’s not his fault. Not at this point. It’s mine only. I have chosen to become who I am. I have chosen the paths at the crossroads. I have made the decisions. Not anybody else. So if I’m unhappy, it can only be my fault. It is my burden. My war.

I can deal with this. Nothing has changed, nothing of importance, in the last few years. Nothing in our foundations. Nothing. I’ve been able to take it, I’ve even embraced it at times. I’ve taken the wrong paths at times. It is now up to me to find my way. If it could become what it is now, there is no reason why I can’t make it become something better.

I’m taking on a challenge. Not out of fear of being alone. Not out of pity. Not out of obligation. Out of love. To end the war within myself. Beware, the Goddess has arrived.

I should stop playing that game.


Tomorrow being turkey day and all my suppliers being down south, I will take the day off. I’ll go shopping for a dress for the company’s Christmas party. I feel like getting something totally outrageous, but not trashy. I want to be the star 🙂 well, might not happen, but I can always fool myself for a minute here. There’ll be around 500 people there. Lots of competition!

I don’t like parties, I never know what to do except drink and smoke. Dance a little bit once I had a few drinks and meet everyone’s wife/husband. I don’t care, ok? I won’t see them until next year anyway. I see these people year round, why would alchool and a nice suit make them more interesting? Sometimes I think I’m totally anti social, or hanging on the fringes of sociopathy. It could be that I’m in the wrong crowd too, I don’t know.

But I have to make a conscious effort to be nice most of the time to the people I work with. I have no interest in their personal lives or problems. I hate it when someone is talking about their relationship or their problems with their kids. I don’t want to know unless we’re friends. It’s just too much information. And how about their interests and hobbies? Nope, no interest there either. One quilts, knits, does tai chi and paints wood boxes. Another spends all her time at the casino or bingo.

There are 6 people in my department. None of the others have read a book in the 2 years I’ve been there. None!!! Music? Movies? Theater? Politics? I make suggestions, bring CD’s, lend them DVD’s… There is just nothing at all going on here. My work day is working like a growing desert in my mind. I’m drying. Scared, alone, isolated.

So a whole day shopping should bring me back to human form 🙂


Today my mom would’ve turned 57. Tomorrow my son will be 11. My birthday is on December 11th, and she died on the 12th.

She’s been on my mind alot lately. Of course because it’s that time of the year. Also because I’m going through a difficult time right now and I need her. And also, and mainly I think, because I’ve been thinking about leaving the man in my life. And I’m afraid of that. Because of how life was with her being a single parent. There are things I can accept about how things were, how she was, others I still can’t.

I’m not afraid of being alone, or not being able to provide for my children. I’m afraid I’ll turn into her. I don’t want my children to look at me the way I looked at my mother when I was a kid.

T’es malade?

J’ai passĂ© samedi et dimanche sur le sofa Ă  morver, tousser, moucher, toute Ă©tourdie. Ça file pas mal mieux aujourd’hui, mais la journĂ©e Ă  Ă©tĂ© longue au bureau…

J’arrive Ă  la maison, je lui dis fais moi pas Ă  souper, ça file pas fort, je suis encore malade. Il me rĂ©pond, t’es malade?

J’ai rĂ©ussi Ă  passer au 10ième niveau sur Burnout Revenge, 15 heures de gameplay. Mets en que j’suis malade.


Je ne crois pas Ă  la rĂ©incarnation. Pas du tout. Mais quand je me retrouve Ă  New York, j’ai comme l’impression d’y avoir dĂ©jĂ  habitĂ©. Je me sens chez moi, je sais oĂą trouver ce dont j’ai besoin, je peux dĂ©nicher un resto pas cher ou une librairie juste en passant dans un quartier. C’est vraiment Ă©trange.

J’aime les odeurs, les gens, les rues, les parcs, le bruit. Je veux y retourner bientĂ´t. Seule ça serait bien. Pas de gogosses de touristes Ă  visiter, pas d’empire state, pas de statue, pas de bloomingdale’s. Juste moi dans mon hotel weird mais pas cher. Le Carlton Arms. Je post des photos bientĂ´t.

J’ai hâte de retourner dans mon petit Irish pub cruiser avec le barman, aller chercher mon thĂ© et mon croissant Ă  la pâtisserie l’autre cĂ´tĂ© de la rue. Regarder les Ă©tudiants se rendre Ă  leurs classes, ou faire leurs travaux sur leur laptop, assis sur un banc. Je veux retourner regarder les vieux jouer aux Ă©checs sur les tables en marbre dans le parc de l’hĂ´tel de ville, magasiner pour des livres chez Borders, marcher dans SoHo en plein après midi, quand on a le soleil dans la face, me perdre dans la foule du Chinatown le soir, avec ses lumières suspendues, ses anguilles sur le trottoir, et passer devant les terrasses hupĂ©es de Little Italy. Me faire offrir des lunettes Boakleys dans Battery Park et croiser les power brokers de wall street, les Masters of the Universe…

Fight Club

I’m obsessed with Fight Club. I can’t count the number of times I’ve watched it anymore. The first time was at the theater. I went alone. I was so shocked, I stayed until the credits rolled off, walked out to my car. It was a life changing experience. The dissociation, so complete, so unconditional really scared me. The violence is really an accessory. The acceptance that we are not who we really think we are, because we can’t define ourselves by the standards of what is now socially indispensable through consumerism. That struggle is what brought the violence for the Narrator. But that can also apply to all aspects of our internal struggles.

I discovered that I have a Tyler Durden! She never comes out though. But she’s been giving me a hard time lately. And there are days when I can feel her just melt in me, spread her being throughout my body and my brain. I don’t think she really wants to come out anyway. She wants me to become her. So I’m asking myself, could it be that she’s really me and I’m her? Could it be that I’ve let myself dissapear inside another me?

I don’t think I’m becoming. I’m slowly coming to realize that I’ve been sleeping at the wheel, lucky enough to have an autopilot.